


You Call Out My Name (For The Love You Need)

by AllTheseLittleWritings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angels, Angst, Blood, Boyfriends, Coma, Death, Don't worry, Dreams, Drinking, Drinking Problem, Drugs, Emotional Baggage, Family, Famous Harry, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Music, No Smut, Non-Famous Louis, One Night Stands, Poetry, Relationship(s), Sexual Content, Survival, but not supernatural, car crash, friends - Freeform, life and death, mentions of major injuries, none of the main characters die, some sort of time travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:43:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 135,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheseLittleWritings/pseuds/AllTheseLittleWritings
Summary: “I’m so sorry, baby,” she says, as they watch the car burn in the silence of the first spring night, which still seems like it’d be winter. The small drizzle of water has turned into snowflakes and they are still falling, but they don’t feel cold. Some stick to Louis’ hair and eye lashes and they stay there, like they’d be part of Louis.   
- 
Louis thinks he has fallen in love. He’s so sure about it. Then everything changes. He gets into a car accident with his mother and suddenly his life turns from living into being an angel. He doesn’t know what to do with his time, until his mother gives him a task. 
Harry is trying to make it as a singer. He spends his days on the streets, playing his guitar, and his nights at a pub. He loves his whiskey and he likes his one night stands. When a guy with blue, bright eyes sits next to him in the pub, he realizes things could be a lot different. 
In other words, Harry is a street artist and Louis is an angel. Based on this fic prompt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I haven't posted anything in a long time, but here I am again. I've been working on this since last February and couldn't be happier to be finally finished. 
> 
> I have to thank my dear friend, [Nora](http://bringmebacktohome.tumblr.com/), who linked me the prompt to this fic and gave me inspiration through out the writing process. I also have to thank her for proof reading this and if there are any mistakes left, they're completely my fault. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and of course, there's a playlist attached to this fic. I'll mention all of the songs, which I listened to while writing, in the beginning of each chapter. 
> 
> Songs for chapter 1 are
> 
> DMA’S / Delete  
> Bonnie Tyler / Total Eclipse Of The Heart  
> Olafur Arnalds, Alice Sara Ott / Eyes Shut – Nocturne in C minor

This is it! Louis Tomlinson might be in love. He might be in love with a young man named Jeremy. Jeremy August Meyer. That’s his name. Louis looks down at their joined hands, as they sway silently between their bodies. Louis feels that warmth inside of him, knowing that this fuzzy feeling won’t just fade away. Louis eyes Jeremy’s body until he reaches Jeremy’s profile. He is smiling gently, watching where they’re going. Suddenly he turns his eyes to Louis, his smile getting more prominent. 

“What?” Jeremy asks, Louis’ cheeks heating under his gaze. Louis bites his lip to keep himself together and not burst into bright beams and silly giggles. 

“No, nothing,” Louis says in a breath. He looks back at Jeremy, whose cheeks are tinted pink. His eyes glow in the cold night. The light sheen of sweat has dried in the cool night air, which is telling them the spring is coming. His hair is in need of a wash after jumping aimlessly in the concert they were at. Louis feels his shirt sticking to his back, the fabric drying against his skin. He breathes a shaky breath out, the freezing air puffing out in a grey cloud. 

 

“So, did you like the band?” Jeremy asks shyly. He has his eyes on Louis, waiting for his answer. 

“They were really good! I’ve heard a couple of songs before but seeing them live was completely different,” Louis smiles, squeezing Jeremy’s fingers between his own. Jeremy looks happy, humming one of the bands songs silently. 

“You know that I belong to be, reflections of myself. Let it all out, just let it all out. To fight the feeling,” Jeremy sings a little out of tune. Louis feels endearment spreading through his body, his stomach tingling with nerves and happiness. 

Jeremy keeps on singing as they walk on the quiet pavement. A few drops of water rains from the sky, some of them changing into snowflakes. They circle in the air before they collide with the water and hit the ground heavily. Louis puffs out a cloud of air from his lungs, watching how the hot air dissipates into the cold air. Jeremy forgets a few words, mumbling something that reminds him of the actual lyrics. Louis snickers at his date’s dorky way of singing, joining to sing the last verse. 

 

“To break, don't wait. Wait for me tonight, opening the door. Shift horizons in good time. You were there for me, waking in the night. Let it catch you in the fall. I know that you're right, ease with me tonight. Break the moment in the dawn. You were there for me, waking in the dark. Know I'll meet you in the fall. I could be the one, you could be divine. Know I'll feel you in good time.” They start to sing as loud as they can before their voices start to break. 

Louis giggles between lyrics, swaying his and Jeremy’s joined hands between them. Jeremy keeps his face towards the sky and his eyes tightly shut as he belts out the song deep from his core. 

 

“Shut up!” Someone yells from a house on the other side of the street. Louis stops on his track, his eyes wide and his mouth half open, ready to sing more. Jeremy looks at Louis, a funny look on his face and his fingers limp against Louis’. They look at each other before they burst out laughing. 

Jeremy pulls Louis’ hand towards him, making him move forward. Jeremy walks a few steps backwards, Louis following closely with his hand against his mouth to stifle the loudest snickers. Jeremy lets out a high laugh, followed with more lyrics from the song they danced and sang to. 

“Don’t make me call the police!” A door opens in a house, someone yelling after them with a booming voice. Louis bites his palm as he tries to keep himself from laughing too loudly. Jeremy quickens his pace, pulling Louis to run with him. Louis takes a tighter hold of Jeremy’s hand, his feet hitting the icy pavement as he runs hand in hand with Jeremy. They laugh and try to breathe through their panting. Louis’ feet slip against the concrete, his hand holding Jeremy’s tighter. 

 

They run for a few blocks, Louis recognizing the street. Their feet slow their wild steps, Louis almost dragging his feet against the ground.

“This is me then,” he says through his erratic breathing. 

“Nice area,” Jeremy says just as breathless as Louis. He smiles at Louis, turning in front of him. 

“I hope we can do this again soon?” Jeremy raises his brows at Louis, his other hand holding onto Louis’ both hands. He sways them, following the movement with his hips and head. Louis smiles, biting his lower lip. 

“I think we can do this again, yes,” Louis confirms, smirking playfully at Jeremy. They walk on the quiet street, the delicate branches of trimmed bushes brushing their shoulders. 

“What’s your house again?” Jeremy looks around them, trying to recognize the house he came to pick Louis from. 

“It’s that one over there,” Louis nods towards a white tiled duplex which is the next one on the street. 

“Oh, yeah, I know that house,” Jeremy smiles, turning his eyes back to Louis. 

 

They stop In front of the gate to Louis’ home. With their hands together, Louis steps forward and feels his chest brushing against Jeremy’s. 

“This was a fun night,” Louis whispers for only Jeremy’s ears. It brings out a dashing grin from Jeremy. He tilts his head forward, his forehead connecting with Louis’. 

“Yes, it was,” Jeremy breathes out, his crossed eyes watching Louis from under his lashes. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jeremy asks, separating their foreheads. 

“You don’t have to ask,” Louis laughs quietly. He lets go of Jeremy’s hands and joins them behind Jeremy’s neck. Their lips touch softly, the sparkling feeling of new romance radiating in Louis’ veins. He smiles into the kiss before he deepens it, just enough to make Jeremy want something more. Louis feels Jeremy’s hands on his waist, holding him tightly against his own body. Louis hums silently, air blowing out from his nose into the coldness surrounding them. 

Louis would want to keep on going, maybe even invite Jeremy inside for a late night cuddle. But he can’t. His parents are home and it wouldn’t be nice to make his mum and dad have a heart attack the next morning when Louis wouldn’t walk in to the kitchen alone. The good thing is, they’ve already met Jeremy and they like him a lot. 

 

It was a bit of an accident that his parents met Jeremy. Louis wasn’t expecting them to come home so early on a Thursday evening, as it’s their usual date night. Louis was definitely not expecting his parents coming home just as he was in the middle of giving a blowjob to his brand new boyfriend who he is falling for, fast. Fortunately he and Jeremy had been in Louis’ room. They wouldn’t have even noticed Louis’ parents coming home if they wouldn’t have argued so loudly. 

When Louis came to meet his parents with his messy hair and his lips wet and puffy, his parents had stopped yelling and turned towards their son. 

“Mum, dad, I’d like you to meet someone,” Louis held his breath when Jeremy shook their hands and smiled brightly. Louis knew Jeremy made a good impression. He saw it in his mother’s eyes and in the way his dad talked to Jeremy. 

 

Louis’ lips slow down against Jeremy’s. He smiles as he pulls back with his eyes lightly shut. Jeremy gives a breathy laugh, the taste of his mouth lingering on Louis’ tongue and in the air. 

“Are you free on Friday?” Jeremy asks, his eyes hazy and hooded. 

“I am, what do you have in mind?” Louis smirks, his fingers massaging the back of Jeremy’s neck gently. 

“Maybe dinner? And my place? My roommate’s going to go somewhere with his family this weekend so it’d be just us,” Jeremy’s lashes flutter, his cheeks red in the shadows of the street lights. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis smiles, kissing Jeremy once more. 

“Goodnight,” Louis says against Jeremy’s lips, his hands letting go and sliding down to Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy takes them into his own, kissing Louis’ finger tips. 

“I’ll text you,” Jeremy smiles, Louis walking backwards. 

“Night,” Louis waves and turns towards his home. 

“Night,” he can hear Jeremy’s silent voice. Louis turns around at his door, seeing Jeremy still standing on the pavement in front of Louis’ house. Louis smiles, waving once more before he pushes his key inside the lock. Jeremy leaves with a smile on his lips, his sneakers silent against the ground. 

 

Louis opens the door, the house dead silent. Some lights are still on, maybe left for him. Louis takes off his shoes and jacket, pushing his scarf into the sleeve. His phone vibrates in his jeans pocket, the motion sending joy through Louis’ muscles. 

“ _Thanks for the evening xxx,_ ” Jeremy’s message says. Louis smiles at the screen, the butterflies in his stomach bursting to flight. 

“ **Can’t wait for Friday xx** ,” Louis answers back, pocketing his phone. He walks past the living room on his way to his room. The warm lighting illuminates his mum, Donna, and dad, Stephen, sitting on the opposite ends of the room, both facing the other way from each other. 

 

“Hey,” Louis says to them with a wavering voice. His parents look at him, his mother’s tears visible on her cheeks. 

“I didn’t know you’d still be awake,” Louis tells them, watching into their empty gazes. 

“How was the date, Lou?” His dad asks. His grey hair looks even greyer than it was when he left earlier tonight. The wrinkles on his forehead and by his eyes are deep, the pained look in his eyes aching in Louis’ heart. 

“It was great, he’s great, Jeremy’s really great,” Louis smiles gently, dropping his gaze to the floor as he tries to hide his blush. 

“He seems like a good boy for you,” Stephen says, warmth in his voice. 

“So ummm… I’m just going to go to bed,” Louis points his thumb towards his room on the other end of the hall. Donna smiles at him gently, the tears drying on her cheeks. 

“Goodnight,” Louis’ parents say quietly in unison. Louis nods smiling and walks into his room, knowing that his mum and dad aren’t going to go to sleep anytime soon. 

The whole home is filled with anger and disappointment, you can almost smell the frustration in the air. It’s not the first time his parents are fighting, he’s almost used to it now. The late night fights, the screaming and the same accusations his mum throws at his dad every time they fight. Louis just hopes that they’ll let him sleep soundly tonight. 

 

“I can’t understand why you have to do this every time…” Louis hears his mum’s whisper when he goes to brush his teeth in the toilet. He keeps the door open to hear what has happened. 

“I didn’t mean to lose it all, it just happened,” Stephen answers her, his voice a little louder. Louis tries to stay quiet when he brushes his teeth clean, the minty taste exploding around his mouth. 

“That’s what you do every time. You never mean to lose all our money on gambling but every time you come home, you’re drunk and then you tell me that we don’t have money for food,” Donna’s raged whispers carry from the living room into Louis’ ears. So that’s what they’re fighting about. Stephen’s gambling problem. 

Louis spits his mouth empty, splashing cold water on his face. He can hear his parents whisper fighting, their voices getting more and more intense. He doesn’t want to hear his parents fight, he’s sick and tired of it. But he can’t do anything. He has tried to talk to his dad, but he is already in too deep with his problems. Sometimes Louis is afraid someone’s going to take their home away just because his dad needed the money only for his gaming problem. Louis doesn’t want to let go of this house, his childhood home. 

 

Louis tiptoes into his room, closing the door after himself with a quiet click. He keeps the light on next to his bed, changing into his sweat pants and a black t-shirt. He plugs his earphones to his phone and crawls under his duvet. The warmth envelopes him, his eyes closing. The sounds from the living room keep him awake though, so he listens to something, anything, to drown the sounds of the fight going on outside his little safe space. 

“ _You home already?_ ” Louis texts Jeremy, while turning the music louder. 

“ **Yeah, just got in : )** ,” Jeremy answers after a couple of minutes. 

“ _My parents are fighting again,_ ” Louis taps the pads of his thumbs against the keyboard. He can hear Donna’s voice, who is now yelling, from the living room. His dad is trying to calm her down, but to no avail. 

“ **I’m sorry… If you want, you can come here?** ” Jeremy’s text makes Louis smile. He already starts answering, his fingers typing “Maybe I should…” but the sentence doesn’t get an ending, when the door to Louis’ room opens and his dad walks in. Louis looks at him from his bed, dropping his earphones next to his pillow onto the mattress. He sits up, watching at his dad cautiously. 

 

“You’re not sleeping yet?” Stephen’s cheeks are red, his eyes watery. 

“No, I’m not really that sleepy yet,” Louis answers, watching his dad sitting on the side of his bed. 

“I’m sorry that we’re fighting again,” Stephen says, burying his face to his hands. His shoulders shake as he weeps silent cries. Louis sits up, his hand resting on his dad’s shoulder. 

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Louis comforts him, swallowing thickly through his own feelings. Seeing his dad crumbling like this isn’t the first time. Sometimes Louis wakes up in the middle of the night just to see his dad crying in his room. But Louis has always pretended to be sleeping, not knowing what to say. 

 

“I need help,” Stephen’s voice trembles, his red eyes lifting to look at his son. 

“And we’re going to be here with you,” Louis tilts his head and a smile spreads to his lips. Stephen nods, his hand raising onto Louis’ shoulder. 

“You’re a good son, Louis. I’m so glad we have you,” Stephen smiles through his hiccups.

“Dad, stop,” Louis rolls his eyes, his cheeks heating. 

“No, I’m serious. Louis, I couldn’t ask for a better son. And that boyfriend of yours, Jeremy, he’s going to make you really happy. And if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Stephen pulls Louis forward, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Thanks dad,” Louis wraps his arms around his dad, their warm bodies hugging. 

“I love you Louis, you know that,” his dad says quietly into Louis’ ear, squeezing Louis a bit harder in his arms. Louis is just about to open his mouth, when the door to his room opens again. 

 

“What’s this?” Donna steps in, a ripped, white envelope in her hand. Louis separates from his dad, his eyes gazing at his dad. 

“Well?” Donna screams. 

“I can explain,” Stephen stands up slowly, sighing deeply. His shoulders sag down, the dark cloud coming back over his head. 

“How the hell can you explain a 5000 pound credit card bill?!” Donna yells, her face red and her hands shaking. 

“Actually, I don’t even want to hear your half-arsed explanations anymore. Louis, take whatever you need, we’re leaving,” Donna points her finger at Louis, storming out. Louis sits on his bed stunned, turning his eyes on his dad. 

“Don’t worry, just stay here,” Stephen says and leaves Louis alone, closing the door after him quietly. Louis listens to his parents fighting, something breaking in the kitchen. Louis gets up and opens his door, peeking outside. His dad is yelling nonsense, something shattering against the floor. Shards fly into the hallway, Louis recognizing them to be from glasses. 

 

“Louis!” His mum yells. She walks out from the kitchen, avoiding the broken glass. She looks at Louis with sad eyes, her chest heaving up and down. 

“You ready?” She asks, turning around and stuffing her wallet and keys into her purse. 

“You’re not going anywhere, we can work this out,” Stephen follows her actions, trying to grip her arm. She pulls away from him, moving to put on her shoes and jacket. 

“Louis!” She calls again. Stephen turns his eyes on Louis, who watches his parents breaking apart. 

“Now, Louis!” Donna yells, her hand on the door handle. 

“You don’t have to go anywhere Lou,” his dad says, but Louis turns away. He puts on a long sleeved sweater and takes his phone into his pocket. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Louis says to his dad, when he walks past him to put on his shoes and jacket. His mum already walks outside and into the car, turning it on. 

“Take care of her,” Stephen says with a tired voice. His whole body leans against the kitchen doorframe. 

“Don’t worry dad,” Louis throws him a gentle smile before he walks out and closes the door. The headlights of the car blind him. He sits on the front seat next to his mum, who backs out from the driveway. They drive in silence, Donna squeezing the steering wheel with her knuckles turning white. 

 

“Mum?” 

“I can’t take it anymore, I’m too tired,” she says, her eyes welling up and the tears spilling onto her cheeks. 

“You always work it out, you can do it this time too,” Louis tries to calm her. He presses his hand on her shoulder, massaging it gently. 

“I really don’t know if we can solve this,” she says quietly, driving through the streets and towards the highway. 

“You can’t just escape this, mum. You have to try.” 

“I’ve tried! And now I’ve had enough!” She raises her voice, her foot pressing against the gas pedal. The car speeds onto the highway, people honking as she doesn’t check the road for other cars. 

“Mum, you need to calm down,” Louis moves his hand to the door, finding the door handle and squeezes it hard. Louis watches the dark scenery pass them, snowflakes hitting the headlights and sweeping over the car. He can see how icy the road is, the shining tarmac treacherous as ever. 

 

“Please mum, please slow down,” Louis pleads, as his mum hits the pedal and drives even faster. He can hear a familiar song playing in the radio. His heart beats hard in his chest, his hands sweating. He presses his feet against the floor, somehow trying to keep his anxiousness in control. He turns his eyes from the road and other cars to his mum, who is crying silently, her eyes fixed on the road. 

“Mum!” Louis yells, as they pass another car and she almost loses the control of the car. 

“I’m so sorry Louis,” she cries, easing her foot against the pedal. Louis breathes out in relief, when he can feel the speed slowing down in the pit of his stomach. His mum moves her hands against the steering wheel, they shake visibly. 

 

“Are you okay?” Donna asks, her foot pressing against the gas pedal again unintentionally when she turns towards Louis. Her hands grip the steering wheel, the car moving just a little towards the other lane. Donna takes a better hold of the wheel, but the glimmering ice under the fresh snow deceives her. 

“Mum!” Louis yells and his voice breaks. He can see the car spin around on the road, his mum pressing her feet against the pedals reflexively. She tries to hold onto the steering wheel, but it forces its way out of her hands. The car ends up on the next lane, the car facing the way the other vehicles are coming. 

Louis can see a truck coming closer, honking loudly. The headlights make him see only white against the black night. Donna’s foot doesn’t leave the gas pedal, the car speeding up again. Louis’ blood pumps in his head, his head aching from the force. He watches the truck coming closer, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He can hear the song in the radio clearer and clearer until it all turns into white, shattering glass and excruciating pain. 

 

Louis can hear the song fading in the distance, feeling another hit to the car. He feels like he’s flying through the air, when he doesn’t see or feel anything. He senses the car spinning, taking hits after another. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think good things, trying to imagine himself in a happy place where there is no pain or screams. 

He doesn’t know if it’s him who is screaming, but someone is screaming loudly. He feels like his ears are about to burst from the loud noises. For a moment Louis thinks it’s all over, that the car has now stopped. He opens his eyes, just to see them flying upside down towards the field that lines the highway. When the car hits the ground, Louis closes his eyes again, only seeing darkness. 

 

It’s like a dream. Louis’ happy place. He can see the date with Jeremy playing in his head over and over again. The concert and the flashing lights. The moment they met. It was a warm day last summer. Louis was at a festival with his other friends, when a boy with dark sandy hair and warm eyes caught his eye. A boy with a smile which made Louis’ stomach fill with butterflies. The boy came to ask what Louis was going to see next, but now Louis can’t even remember his answer. Maybe he didn’t answer anything. That was Jeremy. 

Flashes of his childhood flood into Louis’ mind. A moment, when his dad was teaching him to ride a bike and suddenly his dad wasn’t there to hold him up anymore. Or the time when Louis, his dad and mum had gone to a park and played football together for the whole day. The moment when Louis started school and found a friend named Thomas. They were attached to the hip until Thomas moved to another country. 

The time, when Louis was trying to help his mum bake a cake for father’s day and neither of them knew how to do one. The cake burned, and Louis went to buy one from a bakery. Or the moment, when he came out to his dad first because he knew Stephen would accept it. His dad smiled and hugged him tight, made him feel safe and asked if Louis already had a boyfriend. When he came out to his mum, she said that she had always known. 

They were a happy little family. At some point it crumbled and Louis didn’t want to be at home anymore. He avoided going through the familiar gate on the front yard or through the front door, because he was always afraid his parents were fighting again. He was always with his friends and their families. And when he met Jeremy, he offered Louis another kind of escape. He gave Louis warmth and he made Louis feel good about himself. He didn’t want to hear the screaming and the yelling and the breaking of the dishes anymore. 

Now he’d need to find his phone so he can text Jeremy. He needs to know that Louis can’t possibly come over on Friday. 

 

Louis comes back to tonight’s concert, seeing the blinking lights and hearing the music in the distance. He opens his eyes, thinking they were already open. That it was all happening now. But when he sees the black night sky, the snow that falls and circles around him and feels the cold grey ground underneath him, he knows that it was just a dream. 

For a moment he stares up at the stars which he doesn’t see so often. They look inviting, like a new type of safe place. Everything is very silent. Coldness spreads around him, taking over his limbs. He breathes out a long puff of air, the warmth from his lungs creating a white cloud in front of his face. It freezes in the air and stays there. Louis stares at the cloud. He sees the atoms, which create the magical cloud he just breathed out. He sees the stars through them and they blink like they’d talk to him. 

 

It feels like a long eternity to lay there, half outside the car. The car is on its roof, Louis’ body flown out through the windscreen. He tries to move, but when his muscles try to contract, a pain shoots straight though his stomach and towards his legs. 

His arms are splayed on the ground next to him. He moves his fingers, not feeling any pain. Slowly he moves his hands towards his body, following down his chest gently. He can feel something wet on himself and when he raises his hands to see where the water is from, it’s not see through. 

His hands are covered in darkness, the red on his palms telling that he’s not covered in water. But in blood. Louis’ eyes scan his hands, trying to understand it all. He is in pain, but it doesn’t feel like a pain where he’d be bleeding so much. 

 

He moves his hands back to his body and drags them along his front. His hands hit something sticking from his stomach. He can feel the cold glass, the shard making the freezing night air seep into his body. Louis touches the glass with his fingers, his other hand travelling towards his left leg. His upper thigh feels dry, which calms him down. He lets go of the glass and touches his right leg. As soon as his fingers touch the skin, it doesn’t feel right. There’s something wrong about it. His left leg might be completely dry, but his right leg is soaked. The skin feels hot under Louis’ hand and it pulses even when he touches it lightly.

“Mum!” Louis yells, but when his voice leaves his mouth, the shard in his stomach makes him cry out in pain. He moves his legs, his left leg reacting but the right feeling like it could rip off. Louis bites his teeth together, his jaw shaking from the cold. 

Suddenly all his muscles start to cramp, the shaking making his sight blur. He breathes, grateful that his lungs are still working. Something warm splutters into his mouth, the metallic taste making him want to throw up. He coughs the taste from his mouth, warm liquid flowing up more and more. Louis reaches his shaking hand to his mouth, the blood on his hand mixing with the red from his mouth. 

 

Louis feels the cold in his spine. He can’t feel his legs anymore. The shaking has subsided. Louis turns his head so the blood from his mouth doesn’t choke him. Someone must’ve called help. Someone is coming. They must be here in a moment. Louis needs to hold on just for a moment longer. 

The snow falling from the sky is like feathers calling him to sleep. He stares into the nothingness of the night, seeing warm flickering light on top of the car in the corner of his eye. It must be them, someone is coming. 

“Louis?” His mum asks with a gentle voice. 

“Mum?” Louis tries to say, but it makes more blood pump to his mouth. 

“Louis?” She calls again. He watches someone approach him, the glowing figure making him feel the pain fading. Louis opens his mouth to call out for his mum, but just then he hears it. The cracking of a fire, like he’d be by a camp fire. 

The sound turns more visible, the warm flicker coming closer. It melts the snowflakes around it. Louis turns his head towards the sky, seeing the warmth and the stars. He has to choose. Either it’s the coldness or the warmth. He tries to keep his eyes open, determined to choose the warmth and healing. He doesn’t want to give up. 

Someone must be coming soon. 

 

The fire trucks and ambulances arrive at the scene and the staff start their way towards the burning car. It has flown far off onto the field. The red and yellow flames are like a beacon that lead the helpers. Just as the first fireman yells for the others to start the water, the car explodes. It shoots out sparks and it blows up like a firework during New Year’s Eve. 

The firemen stare in horror at the fireballs the car throws up in the air. The whole field lights up in bright orange light. If there was someone still in the car, there is nothing they can do anymore. The firemen can only hope they got a calm end and didn’t have to suffer from any pain. They watch the fire burn, while extinguishing it carefully. 

 

“Mum?” Louis asks, as he takes Donna’s hand in his. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she says, as they watch the car burn in the silence of the first spring night, which still seems like it’d be winter. The small drizzle of water has turned into snowflakes and they are still falling, but they don’t feel cold. Some stick to Louis’ hair and eye lashes and they stay there, like they’d be part of Louis. Some fall on his cheeks and make his skin glow in the warm light. The ground is already clear of any snow there was, but new flakes try to make it white again. Louis sees the small traces of the past winter and wishes he’ll still experience spring. 

He watches the firemen, who put out the flames. He can still imagine himself on the ground and feel the pain, but it’s starting to fade away. The agony disappears while the fire licks his body clean and makes him forget who he is. How he feels. What he could’ve felt. What his life was. It creates someone who isn’t here. Someone who forgets his life behind a curtain of smoke and shadows. Someone who still wants to live.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 2
> 
> Bon Iver & St. Vincent / Rosyln  
> Placebo / Running Up That Hill

The bar is already in Harry’s sight. The orange streetlights make the place look even seedier than it already is. He hates to go there, but he doesn’t know where else he could go. He has a place, a very small place, but he can still call it a home. He just doesn’t want to be alone tonight. 

Harry tucks his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, when the coldness of the windy spring night seeps into his bones and core. The night turns even colder, when he feels his phone vibrate against his palm. He doesn’t want to talk to his family now. He knows what they are going to ask. And he doesn’t want to talk about failing once again. 

He slows his steps against the pavement, waiting for the ringing to die down. As it stops, he’s already almost at the bar. The ringing starts again. Harry sighs, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Reluctantly he takes his phone out, the name of his mum flashing on the screen. 

 

“Harry?” Margaret’s voice sounds through the phone. 

“Hi mum,” he tries not to sound so defeated. 

“How are you? Have you heard from the place where you sent your application?” Her words flow into Harry’s ear so slowly that he almost forgets what she said when the next word comes out of her mouth. 

“Mum, it was a demo and yes, I did.”

“Oh, yes, a demo… What did they say?” 

“That my music is something that isn’t selling at the moment. That even though it’s original and I have potential, it’s still not something that would attract the public’s attention,” Harry explains to her, slowing his steps once again as he arrives at the door of the pub. Even thinking about getting rejected makes him wonder why he’s doing any of this. Why he’s wasting his life on music that no one is ready to invest in. 

“Oh…” his mum says. He can’t hear if her voice is sad or confused or if she even understood what Harry just told her. 

“Hopefully you get into an interview next time,” she continues when Harry doesn’t say anything. She sounds like she doesn’t even care. Her voice is filled with fake emotions, which she doesn’t know how to bring out in real life. Harry understands that, his mum has always been like this. 

Harry’s family has never truly supported him. His mum doesn’t really know what’s happening and his dad is just pushing him to fit into a mould he has created. They do pay for his apartment, but that’s about it. They don’t care if he has money for food or if he can pay his bills. They’ve never supported his dream to be a musician and the decision to drop out of law school. His mum and dad only call him to find out that he has been rejected once again. 

Though his mum does like to hear his voice from time to time. The annoying thing is that she can’t remember why Harry is in the city. Harry’s dad is the total opposite. He lets Harry hear about his flaws and why he’ll never be a recording artist. He is the one who wants to force Harry to stop “the nonsense” and understand “you’ll never achieve anything”. The list of rejections is getting longer and now Harry can add one more name to that bloody list. 

 

“I actually have to get going. I’m meeting some friends so…” Harry moves away from the door to give room to a man, who stumbles out of the bar. The man sways from side to side, too many drinks in his blood making his steps unstable. Harry wonders if that’s going to be him in a few years. Drinking too many drinks every night, stumbling to his empty one room apartment, where only a duvet in his empty bed waits for him. 

“Enjoy your evening, Harry.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later,” Harry sighs, his eyes watching the man stumble and fall to his knees. He falls to his side, grunting out nonsense. He tries to crawl somewhere, but his drunk limbs give up and don’t let him stand up. 

“I love you Harry,” his mum offers, a little more gently. 

“Love you too,” Harry closes his eyes, his hand squeezing into a tight fist. Saying those words make him feel uneasy. He doesn’t mind saying them to his mum, but every time he does say them, he feels like he’s lying. He has always known his mum doesn’t care about him the way he’d like her to. Every time she says she loves him, it doesn’t feel like she means it. She just says them because she’s supposed to. He doesn’t know why he feels so anxious saying it. Has he stopped loving his parents? He doesn’t think so. Maybe he just doesn’t like them that much. Even hates them.

He hates that they’ve given up on him. He hates that they don’t support him. He hates that they aren’t interested about him anymore. They just want to make sure that Harry is still a failure. Harry gives a golden star to his parents in his mind – their son is still a failure, congrats! 

 

Harry is the first one to end the call. He doesn’t know what else he could say to his mum. There’s nothing to say anymore. He’s a disappointment to them, he’s a disappointment to himself. 

With a swift movement he drops his phone into the pocket of his jacket and walks into the bar. It’s dark inside, smoke swirling from cigarettes and low murmurs make the air feel heavy. Harry feels everyone’s eyes on him. He stands in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene in front of him. The bartender is pouring a pint. Old men sit in booths and live a life filled with darkness. Music plays lowly from a years old record player, the song faded and heard too many times. 

The people around Harry get used to him. He’s no longer the invader of the space. No longer the disease the white blood cells try to defeat. With heavy feet and slumped shoulders, his hands tucked deep into his pockets, Harry goes to sit by the bar. It’s a quiet evening, only one other guy sitting by the counter. 

He’s probably in his forties. He has his shoulders turned forward, a drink in his hand. He’s looking into his glass deeply, his surroundings forgotten in his lonely life. Harry sees himself in that man; he could be that lonely, forgotten man, who sits in a bar on a Wednesday evening. He could be this man, who looks so vanquished, that Harry might actually believe that this man doesn’t have anyone else in his life other than himself. 

 

“Did you get any news today?” The bartender, Liam, comes to ask Harry. He’s drying a just washed glass with a towel he has in his hands. It looks damp and Harry’s not even sure if it dries anything anymore. Harry turns his attention fully on Liam, who smiles warmly and has these deep brown eyes that tell Harry to trust him. They don’t belong into a smoky bar like this. This is a poisonous environment where people come to drown their feelings. 

Harry nods at Liam, looking down at his hands on the counter. 

“Didn’t go too well?” Liam raises his brows, placing the glass from his hands in front of Harry. 

“I don’t think I’d be sitting here if I would’ve gotten good news,” Harry tells him, smiling grimly and beating himself up in his head. He doesn’t have to be sassy to Liam, who has always been nice to Harry. Who has always listened to Harry’s complains about his ventures as a failed artist. 

“Sorry,” Harry says, casting his eyes back to his hands. 

“None taken,” Liam chuckles, pouring whisky into the glass. 

“It’s on the house,” Liam reaches his hand out to touch Harry’s shoulder. He squeezes it tightly, relaxing Harry’s tense muscles. Liam drops a couple ice cubes into the drink, the coldness puffing up to meet Harry’s face. He watches the drink, the warm auburn colour filling his senses. He smells the creamy, rich scent, his mouth salivating as he thinks about getting lost in drinks and his own drunkenness. 

 

Liam keeps on cleaning the glasses while Harry keeps on staring at the drink in his hand. His blood flow seems to slow down, the sounds around him get clouded and his eyes only see the warmth the drink is going to offer. It’s going to make him feel good and relaxed. It’s going to be his friend. Harry feels like he’s hypnotized by even the idea of getting to finish that drink. He can’t wait to order a new one. His throat burns from even the thought of getting to feel the liquid running down his throat. He can’t wait to feel the burn in his insides. He smiles down at the drink, almost like it’d be someone who he’s having a conversation with. At least it’s going to make him feel good. 

Harry lifts the glass to his lips, the ice clinking as it hits against the insides. The smell of the whisky turns sweeter, as Harry brings the liquid closer to his face. He closes his eyes, as the cold drink hits his lips and the warm taste fills his mouth. His head spins, as the alcohol flows into his body. He finishes the drink in one go, placing the empty glass down on the table. He licks his lips, his mouth drying as his body wants more. 

 

“I want what he’s having, apparently it’s good,” a guy next to Harry says with a sweet, soft voice. Harry looks up from the glass, side-eyeing the person who spoke. He’s looking at Harry with his head tilted, soft, blue eyes watching Harry’s reactions and waiting for him to say something back to his remark. 

Harry huffs out a breath, shaking his head slowly and moving his glass towards the other side of the counter. To the part, where Liam could easily fill it up again. Maybe he could double it this time. 

“He doesn’t speak, interesting,” The unknown says with his pleasant, warm voice. 

“What should I even say to you?” Harry eyes the guy under his brow, such warmth seeps from the stranger, and it doesn’t push Harry away. 

Usually, if someone has decided to approach Harry, they end up being people, who have two personalities. They have the public, flirty side. And then the private side, which is dirty and ugly. Harry is always interested to hear what the person has to offer with their funny guy attitude and flirty eyes. They are usually very nice. But when the conversation goes on and the table in front of them fills with empty glasses, the things the guys say to Harry turn from funny to disturbing. Some might ask where he lives, some might say they are going to follow Harry home and use him like he was intended. 

At first they always compliment Harry, tell him how handsome he is. As the night comes to a close, the compliments turn from handsome to their own renditions of what beauty is to them. Attention seeker, sissy, some might even call him a whore. That’s always when Harry turns his back to the men. 

But this time, the guy doesn’t seem like the others. His breath doesn’t smell like theirs. They don’t come too close. He’s not invading Harry’s space; he’s giving it to Harry. They guy is only making a joke and for Harry that’s almost miraculous. 

 

“I don’t know… Say something witty, maybe even give me one of those side eye things you have going on there… Maybe even a smile…” The stranger suggests with his soft voice that drowns into the smoke of the bar. The sound of his voice is almost like smoke itself. 

He smiles reassuringly, keeping Harry interested. Harry has to turn his face away so the guy wouldn’t see the smirk Harry’s trying to keep at bay. But he fails, and for once, it doesn’t feel like a failure that he’d be disappointed in. He’s happy to fail. 

“There it is,” The stranger chuckles, turning his own smiling face towards his hands that rest on the table. He has laced his fingers lightly, his right thumb tracing the lines on his left palm. 

 

“You’re too beautiful to be sitting in this shithole,” Harry blurts out. His cheeks heat instantly, his eyes widening as he realises he said it out loud. The stranger smirks towards his hands, turning his gaze slowly towards Harry. 

“Likewise,” he says, keeping Harry’s eye contact. Harry doesn’t know where else to look at, he’s captivated by the blue that’s keeping him still. The stranger grins lightly, giving Harry his ability to see everything else around them again. 

Harry feels weird, light almost. He feels like he’d be looking at a drink glass in his hands when he’s looking at the stranger. The world slows down, the voices dim out. There’s just that stranger. As soon as he let’s go of Harry’s gaze, the world around them comes back to life. Harry still stares at the man, not knowing what to do. Liam gives him a drink, the stranger bringing the drink to his hands. 

“Another one?” Liam asks Harry, the question almost going unnoticed by him. 

“Hmmm? Yes, yes, another,” Harry shakes himself out from the spell the man next to him put him under. Liam grins, pouring whiskey into Harry’s glass. Harry pulls the drink closer, lifting it to his lips and gulping it down. He grimaces at the strong taste, it didn’t taste this strong earlier. The warm buzz spreads through his body, relaxing the muscles in his tense shoulders. He pushes the glass towards Liam again, who nods and pours the same golden liqueur into the glass. 

 

“You must like it then?” The stranger asks. 

“Like what?” 

“The drink?” 

Harry looks down at the warm liquid, the scent wafting towards his face. He thinks for a moment to come up with a good answer. 

“It’s alright,” Harry answers, getting lost in the drink again. It invites Harry closer, it calls for him to drink. 

 

“Then why do you look at it like it was a long lost family member?” The stranger asks. He leans himself against the counter, his hand steadying his head. Harry furrows his brows, a small smile on his lips. 

“Maybe it is, maybe this drink is everything I have,” Harry retorts, looking at the stranger again. His hand is around his own glass, but the liqueur stays still. He hasn’t touched it yet. Harry avoids looking at the blue eyes, fixing his own gaze at his drink again. He washes it down his throat, the burning turning to great pleasure. 

“That can’t be true,” the man leans a little closer, his eyes trying to read Harry like an open book. He can’t turn the pages though. He can only see the cover and the first three plank pages that appear when you open the book. 

“Well it pretty much is,” Harry tilts his head mockingly, pushing his glass towards the other edge of the counter again. Liam is serving someone else, his warm eyes glinting as he listens to the drunk man speak. Liam’s face might look warm and happy, but he’s leaning away from the man. His whole body is stiff; he mustn’t like the man. Or what he’s saying. Harry asks for Liam’s attention by giving a quick whistle. Liam turns his eyes towards Harry, nodding when Harry lifts his hand in the air, ordering a new drink. 

 

The stranger doesn’t say anything to Harry’s answer. He stays quiet and straightens his back. He takes his glass between his palms, staring at the liquid at the bottom. Liam fills Harry’s glass. Harry happens to look him in the eye just when Liam raises his brows questioningly and tilts his head towards the man on Harry’s left. Harry raises his shoulders discreetly, downing yet another drink. Liam doesn’t even have a chance to leave from Harry’s side, when he’s already pouring him more whisky. 

The stranger brings the glass quickly to his lips and gulps down his drink. He swallows, coughs bubbling from his chest and a mighty grimace making a home on his face. Harry pats his back gently, drinking the contents of his own glass slower this time. He’s getting that nice little tipsy feeling in his fingertips, his head feeling a little lighter already. Now he can start enjoying. 

“How could that ever be everything to you?” The stranger splutters. Harry smirks and looks at him through his lashes. 

“And you’re drinking them like they’re water!” The stranger flashes his blue eyes at Harry. His incredulous face makes Harry snicker, but the blue in his eyes doesn’t seem to get the joke. Even Harry doesn’t know why he’s giggling; what is so funny about him getting drunk almost every evening of the week. 

There’s nothing glamorous about it, there’s nothing fancy or funny about it. He’s wasting his life on disappointments and drinking. How sad. Harry sobers from his fit of giggles, a slow breath streaming from his mouth. He turns away from the guy, his eyes settling on the liquor again. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything,” the man says when Harry stays silent. He’s trying to get Harry to speak again, make Harry maybe turn towards him. But Harry stays still and quiet, staring at the drink in his hand. His eyes look at something only he sees. It seems like he makes a decision when he brings the drink to his lips and buries the liquid in his body. He orders more, the bartender obeying and watching as Harry gets more and more drunk. 

The stranger watches on as Harry drinks. He watches how the golden liquid from Harry’s glass pours into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s his job. Harry sways in his chair, his legs slack against the leather of the seating. He leans against the table, his limp hand lifting the glass again and again, the burning alcohol corrupting his body. 

 

Harry lifts his hand in the air, trying to get more whiskey from Liam. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough already?” Liam asks kindly, taking the glass from Harry’s hand as he’s reaching it forward. The stranger looks first at Harry and then at Liam, who has concern in his eyes. 

“I decide when I’ve had enough!” Harry yells, his hand swinging in the air, the green in his eyes flaming. The stranger places his hand on Harry’s shoulder to steady him. Harry turns his eyes to the man, side-eyeing him coldly. 

“Get your hands off me,” he growls, the stranger doing what he’s told.

 

“Harry, go home, I’m not serving you anymore,” Liam says with such strictness that Harry doesn’t say anything back to him. In response he raises his middle finger limply at Liam, stumbling off his chair. Others in the bar are watching him again. Like he was that disease. An intruder. Harry bends his head down and drags his feet against the floor. He forcefully pushes the door open, hitting the coldness of the black night. 

The snow is falling. Slowly it circles in the air, like little white feathers. He already thought it wouldn’t snow anymore. It’s supposed to be spring, it’s supposed to be warm. But it’s not. Harry stares at them, looking up towards the sky. The flakes rain down on him gently, not caring how drunk or how lonely he is. The little snowflakes are his friends, that’s what Harry decides. 

He reaches his hand out, catching a unique flake on his palm. It melts instantly and leaves only a drop of water after. Harry looks up towards the sky again, finding stars twinkling in the sky. He barely sees them through the street lights, but they are there. 

 

“So, Harry, was it?” A familiar voice asks. Harry doesn’t care to turn around and face the stranger. 

“Maybe I should walk you home, so you get there safely,” his voice reminds Harry of something and he can’t decide if it’s good or bad. 

“I was wondering when you’d say that,” Harry mutters. The stranger walks to his side and puts on his jacket. He rubs his hands together and clasps them over his mouth. He blows air to his palms, trying to keep his hands warm. 

“What do you mean?” 

Harry drops his gaze at the man, his blue eyes like winter. 

“You know, when you’re going to say you’ll walk me home. Then you’d try to come into my building and into my home. I was wondering when you’d reveal your true self,” Harry says nonchalantly, his voice slurring the words. He starts to stumble forward, the cold street leading him home. 

 

“No, I only want to make sure you get home safely,” The man says, a small smile in his voice. 

“No one said I’m going to come into your home,” he continues, making Harry turn his eyes towards the man. Just as he does that, his balance deceives him and he almost trips over his own feet. The stranger is by his side like he’s meant to be there, grabbing Harry’s waist. 

“Like I said, I’m here to get you home safely,” the man smiles, walking Harry forward and assuring his steps. Harry places his hand on the man’s shoulder reluctantly, but finds the support calming and he relaxes against the smaller frame. Harry’s hand feels the stranger’s jacket seam under his palm. The fabric is thick and he’d like to be wearing that coat over his own. The leather on his shoulders is cold and it doesn’t suit the weather. 

 

“So you’re just walking me home?” Harry’s mumbling voice slurs. The smaller man chuckles. His shoulder shakes under Harry’s arm, as the question amuses him. 

“Yes, for the hundredth of time, I’m just going to walk you home,” the man says with a smile in his voice. Harry nods, watching the puffs of his breath flowing from his mouth elaborately. The grey cloud vanishes into the frosty air, like it was never there. Like Harry wouldn’t even be breathing. 

 

The stranger holds Harry close to his body and walks him like Harry would be a child learning his steps. His feet lead him towards home, but the stranger leads him. Harry can’t remember if he gave the man his address or if the man somehow already knows where he lives. What if Harry has already let the man come to his home? What if for some strange reason Harry already knows the man but his eyes are too hazy to recognize him? 

Harry turns his eyes to the man, who’s watching straight ahead. He looks alert and the focused expression on his face reminds Harry of protectiveness. Harry turns his blurry eyes back towards the way they are going and without him knowing they are standing in front of his block of flats He stops and looks up to see his two windows. Where did the time go? Where did the walk go? They were just standing in front of the bar and now they are already here. 

 

“What did you say?” The stranger asks, his gaze quickly turning towards Harry. Harry stares back at him, his head slowly catching up. 

“What?” 

“You said something,” the stranger reminds, a smirk on his lips. 

“I can’t remember,” Harry answers honestly, not knowing that he said something out loud. Did he really talk? 

“Well, I guess we’re at your place?” The man asks from Harry, walking him across the road and stopping them on the front steps of the house. 

“Looks like it,” Harry looks up at the building, the small snowflakes falling even slower than they did before. Enchanted by them, he doesn’t hear when the stranger says something. 

 

“Hellooo?” Harry startles as the man tugs at his sleeve. Harry’s eyes fall straight into the man’s blue ones, a new kind of enchantment taking over his mind. 

“What?” Harry blinks, like he’d wake up from a dream. 

“You’re in your own little world aren’t you?” The man only smiles, letting go of Harry’s sleeve. Harry feels the loss of contact as if the man would’ve let go of Harry’s soul. 

“So, you think you’ll survive home from here?” The man points towards the building with his head, a calm smile on his face that clears Harry’s drunk head. 

“I think so,” Harry nods, his feet already moving towards the steps. 

 

“Hey, will I see you again?” Harry’s mouth speaks before his mind gets to filter it. Now he seems just desperate, great.

“Probably yes,” the man smiles, starting to walk away. 

“When?” Harry asks after him. 

“I’ll take care of it,” the stranger turns his whole body towards Harry but still keeps on getting further away. He smiles and waves Harry goodbye. Harry watches him walking away for a while, before his body starts to feel the chilly night getting through his clothes and skin. He stumbles up the steps and inside, his fingers starting to tingle when he feels the warmth. 

 

Louis turns around when he doesn’t feel Harry’s eyes on his back anymore. Harry is going up the stairs, his feet slowly rising and stepping heavily on the stone steps. Louis stands there on the opposite side of Harry’s building, watching Harry open the door. He can see how the warm air from the corridor brings out a vibrating mass of warmth before the door closes again. 

“Is that him?” Louis asks silently, his mum taking his hand into hers. 

“Yes, he’s a bit lost. He needs a friend,” she tells him, her delicate skin cold against Louis’. 

“I feel bad for him,” Louis moves his eyes to his mum, who has a sad look on her face. Louis can see the outline of her glowing angel wings. He knows that they have to get going again but Louis would like to stay here to make sure that Harry is alright. 

“There are a lot of people who care about him, they just don’t know how to care,” she tells Louis, her cold breath not even creating a grey puff of frosty air in front of her face. 

 

“Let’s go see dad?” She asks Louis, the sadness in her eyes creating a sad smile on Louis’ face. 

“Let’s go see dad,” Louis answers back to her, taking a stronger hold of her hand. He sees from the reflection of her mum’s eyes how his wings come to life behind his back. He flashes one last worried look towards Harry’s building before his mum is taking him towards his old home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 3
> 
> Labrinth / Jealous  
> Thom Catt / Blue Bird Original Mix  
> John Mayer / Gravity  
> Florence + The Machine / Remain Nameless  
> Zola Jesus / Skin  
> Library Tapes / The Typewriter  
> Tim Hecker / Live Room Out

Louis stands on the other side of the busy street, watching as a street artist plays a guitar and sings. Harry. He has his eyes closed, his voice flowing out of his mouth effortlessly. People have gathered around him, standing there and nodding their heads. The building behind his back echoes his voice all around and hits Louis like a freight train. Harry’s fingers play the guitar skilfully, the instrument a little scuffed. Louis keeps watching him, not being able to approach him. He’s afraid he’s going to disturb Harry’s concentration if he goes there and makes himself known to him. 

The first time Louis saw Harry was almost two weeks ago. Ever since he’s been watching Harry and his daily life. What he does and why he could need help. And it’s clear that the man has some problems. Almost every evening Harry is at the pub and then he stumbles home, leaning against the walls of the buildings that line his way to his apartment. The next day he goes somewhere and somehow Louis has always lost him in the crowds. And then Louis finds him again after a few hours; at his usual spot, playing his guitar to strangers, who walk past him on their way to have late lunch or going home from work. He sings and smiles to people who give him a few nickels. Every day he repeats the same patterns and never breaks it. 

Louis follows him and tries to come up with a plan how he could do something for the man but he doesn’t know how Harry needs help. His mum has only said that Harry is in trouble and Louis could help him. Maybe he needs a friend? That’s the only thing that Louis has come up with. He doesn’t know how else he could help Harry. Besides, Harry seems to always be alone. He goes on with his daily life without anyone there by his side. So maybe that’s it. Maybe he needs company. 

Harry starts to sing a new song. He plays his guitar as an intro, people leaving and new ones staying to stand there to hear Harry sing. Louis takes a deep breath in before he encourages himself to take the first step forward. And then Harry starts to sing and it stops Louis on his tracks. He can’t move his feet anymore as he’s captivated by the beautiful sound that comes out of Harry. Maybe that’s also a reason why he hasn’t been able to approach Harry before. His voice makes chills run down Louis’ skin and Louis is sure his expression is somewhere between frightened and enthused. It’s not going to be pretty if Harry sees him like this. So Louis stays to stand still on the other side of the road, listening to the man sing and smile to the people around him. 

 

When Harry lifts the guitar strap from his shoulder and bends down to take something out from his backpack, Louis psyches himself up to finally meet him. Louis checks the road that there’s no cars coming his way and runs to the other side, just in front of Harry and his small stage. He’s doing something to his guitar; probably changing a string, as he’s removing a broken one from the instrument. Louis stands there and doesn’t know what to say. Harry doesn’t even seem to notice him as he’s so focused in his work. 

Somehow Louis needs to get Harry’s attention. He digs out his wallet and takes out money. He drops the few bills and change into Harry’s guitar case that’s opened for just that purpose. The coins chink against the others which makes Harry lift his gaze from his guitar to Louis. He smiles and looks down, quickly looking up at Louis again. 

“It’s you,” Harry says, an incredulous look on his face. 

“Hi,” Louis smirks, pocketing his wallet. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was just passing by and wondered if it’s you,” Louis pulls the lie from the top of his head. He really should’ve thought this through a bit better. 

“I actually thought I’d never see you again,” Harry looks down at his guitar and tightens the string. He stands up, lifting the strap of the guitar over his head and adjusts the instrument in front of him. 

“Well, I think I said that I’d take care of us seeing again. So here I am,” Louis would want to smile wider than he actually is, but he doesn’t want to seem creepier than he already is. 

“I guess you did,” Harry bites his lip, focusing on the instrument again. He tunes it, playing a few chords to check it. 

 

“So…” Harry says, not knowing what else to come up with. He looks at Louis with the green in his eyes turning grey like a wintery sky. 

“So…” Louis smiles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“I think I need to get going,” Louis smiles tightly, already backing away. This wasn’t how he planned it would go.

“Okay, well, it was nice seeing you again,” Harry nods, sadness spreading to his eyes. Louis turns around and jams himself into the mass of people walking along the sidewalk. He sighs, knowing that he had a plan. He planned to be Harry’s friend and that’s what he’s going to be. 

 

Louis turns around and walks back to Harry. He’s already playing something, people stopping to hear him play. 

“Hi!” Louis says, startling Harry from his deep focus. His eyes flash to Louis, a smile spreads to his lips. 

“Actually, do you think you could meet me over dinner or something?” Louis hastily asks, feeling people’s eyes on him. They turn to look at Harry, whose fingers play the guitar and never stop. Louis can see that he’s thinking about something but it doesn’t interrupt Harry from his instrument. Finally the deep thoughts dissolve from Harry’s eyes and his smile is more relaxed. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” Harry agrees with a nod. 

“Great! Are you free tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Harry’s fingers stop playing the music, his attention completely on Louis. 

“Okay, well, umm… I’ll meet you outside your building, let’s say at eight?” Louis raises his brows, his nails digging to his palms inside his pockets. 

“Eight it is,” Harry smiles crookedly, his hands picking up the song again. 

“Great, okay, I’ll see you then!” Louis smiles and turns away again, but not before he sees the small audience keeping wide smiles to themselves. With a lightness in his step, Louis walks away and thinks. How could he be the best friend he could ever be?

 

\- - - -

 

It’s 7.59 pm and Louis is standing in front of Harry’s building. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to go and ring his buzzer or if Harry’s just going to appear outside. He looks upwards and tries to guess which ones could be Harry’s windows. 

Just as he’s about to step up the stairs and ring Harry’s door bell, the front door swings open and Harry steps out. He’s wearing his usual black leather jacket, but underneath is a white, crisp button up shirt. His black jeans are even tighter than they’ve been earlier. They’re almost like painted on him. He’s just black and white beauty and Louis feels dumb standing there, staring at him like he’d have lost all of his senses. 

Harry’s hair sways in the cold evening air, his eyes blazing. Nothing makes sense when Louis is looking at him. Why would this man need his help? Harry is perfect in every way. Why would he need Louis? Harry stands there and lets the door shut behind his back. 

He doesn’t move when Louis keeps eyeing him, and Harry reminds Louis of something. It’s a bit hard to put it into words. It’s almost like Harry would’ve escaped from a painting. His calm presence fills the air and Louis feels much closer to him than he actually is. He doesn’t seem to remember that there are stairs between them and that he’s still staring at Harry. Louis is just watching him, trying to decide what’s more beautiful about him. His eyes or his skin or his hair or his body. Then Harry’s mouth turns into a shy smile, his head bowing down to hide the faintest blush on his cheeks. That might be the most beautiful sight Louis has ever seen. 

Harry lifts his eyes back to Louis’, the green watching him under Harry’s brows. Chills shiver Louis’ bones, his muscles contracting and a voice in his head screams at him to run away. Harry is like a dangerous animal, ready to claim Louis as his pray. A strong fight or flight reaction takes over Louis and he doesn’t know what to do. Until Harry’s features melt into a warm smile and dimples pop to his cheeks. Louis’ want to hide is defeated by his endearment. First Harry is like fire and ice at the same time and then, just a fraction of a second later, he’s an ember that keeps Louis’ attention on him and Louis’ chest warm. 

 

“Hi,” Harry offers, walking the steps down slowly. He meets Louis at the bottom of the stairs, his hands swaying by his sides lightly when he doesn’t know what to do with them. Finally he decides to put them into his pockets. He shrugs, the pink colour spreading to his cheeks again. 

“Hi,” Louis smiles back at him. 

“Should we get going?” Louis takes a step forward, his body directed towards the road. 

“Yeah, sure,” Harry agrees, taking sure steps next to Louis. His stride is a little wider than Louis’ because of his long legs. Louis has to keep up a fast pace so Harry wouldn’t go past him. 

 

“So where are we actually going?” 

“It’s this bar that I used to go to,” Louis lets the words slip through his lips and as soon as the last syllable leaves his mouth, he understands what he actually said. Used to go to. He used to go there, but the thing is that Louis can’t actually remember when he was there the last time. He can remember that he was with friends, good friends. There was a lot of laughter, but when Louis thinks of the people who he was with, he can’t see their faces. They are just shadows from his former life, which he’s looking through a black curtain. Louis can almost see through it, but he can’t see clearly. He knows that there are people on the other side of that curtain. There are places and memories and stories behind that curtain. Louis would want to rip the black wall open, see his past, hear the voices of the people he once knew. 

At the same time his hands are shaking so badly and the imaginative blood from his fingertips has escaped towards his chest. He can’t feel his hands and he feels nauseous thinking about opening the shadows of his past life. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to stay here, but he’s sure he doesn’t want to be living his life like he’d still be alive. He can’t live that life anymore. Everyone, who he once knew, think that Louis is gone. What’d be his life, if he’d try to reach those people? He’d drive them crazy, make them forget what’s real and what’s not. That’s why he needs to make some new memories before he has to leave. 

 

“Why don’t you go there anymore?” Louis feels Harry’s eyes on him. This is not a good idea. 

“I just grew tired of the food there,” Louis lies, feeling guilty that he has to lie so much. It gets so hard sometimes to actually be dead, but at the same time still walk among the living. He feels like a fallen angel, though he hasn’t done any harm. He just doesn’t like lying. Maybe he just needs to be more honest with Harry, even though he wouldn’t tell him the whole truth. But at least part of it is better than no truths at all. 

“And we’re still going there?” Harry chuckles, his boots kicking some pebbles on the street. 

“Well they serve the best fish and chips, I thought it’d be kind of perfect.”

 

Harry doesn’t say anything to Louis’ answer. He only smiles and looks down towards his feet. They walk in silence, people passing them along the way. Some snowflakes start to fall, making Harry lift his eyes towards the sky and wonder the white unique shapes. He catches a few onto his arm and looks at them more closely before his breathing ruins their pattern.

“You like snow?” Louis asks him, when he has followed Harry’s doings for a while. 

“Yeah, I do. When I was younger I always loved to go outside when it snowed. It was always so calm. Now snow just reminds me of something that once was. Here the snowfall is never as calm as it was when I was a child. Of course I didn’t grow up in the city but still, snow still stays the same. It doesn’t matter where you are, it’s still snow that falls from the sky,” Harry explains slowly, his brows scrunched together in deep thought.

He’s clearly filtering his words, leaving out some things that at least for now he wants to keep to himself. Louis listens to him intently, trying to read between the lines. He’s trying to figure Harry out, but he can’t peel through his outer layers. He can only figure things out from the things Harry is ready to share. 

The snow fall changes into a light rain, which doesn’t wet them. It feels more like they’d be walking through a mist

 

They don’t talk much during the walk to the bar. Louis watches the people who walk past them and who are going in and out of the bar. He tries to place them to the group that’s standing behind that black curtain in his mind. None of the people he sees remind him of the people he used to know. In a way it’s disappointing. He was ready to hide, he was ready to feel like he’s going to be exposed and he’d have to run away. But when he doesn’t see people, who remind him of the people he used to know, he’s forced to stay calm.

Louis opens the door for Harry and lets him inside first. Harry bows his head with a silent thank you, shaking his hair and swiping his long curls over his head into a fluffy side part. An empty booth catches his eye in the dim lighting, Louis following him closely. They sit down, face to face. Louis leans his elbows on the table, Harry leaning back against the seating comfortably. The waiter comes to ask their order after a few silent moments and gazes, which they both try to keep concealed. As Louis is about to say that he’d like fish and chips, Harry is already ordering two of them with beers. He smiles at Louis; a knowing smile, which makes Louis want to hide his face before he grumbles into giddy giggles. 

 

Music plays softly in the background when Louis makes himself comfortable against the seating. He doesn’t know where to look, but if he’d look at Harry, he’s sure he’d start smiling so wide, that his jaw might fall off. So he decides to stare at an old jukebox, which is playing one of his favourite songs. 

He can remember it clearly. How he first heard it and somehow the song made a place in Louis’ heart. He doesn’t want to let go of it and now, when he really isn’t here, he can still remember every lyric and every breath the singer takes. 

 

“I love this song,” Harry says silently, eyeing the napkin on the table. His words make Louis look at his way, the song getting a little louder. Like his mind would’ve raised the volume so he could hear it just a tad bit better. 

“Really?” Louis raises his brows, Harry’s eyes turning to him. 

“Yeah, this was one of the first songs that I learned to play with a guitar,” Harry smiles, his eyes shining when he’s talking. Maybe it’s because of the lighting or because he’s talking about his passion for music or because he’s really enjoying himself sitting here with Louis, but his face looks soft. Like it would’ve been lined with pink summer clouds and hazy sunsets. Louis looks at him and he can smell the summer. 

His silent heart takes a leap, his whole chest igniting with flames. He tries to breathe like he’s used to on earth, but the flames aren’t something that he’s used to. He doesn’t know how to react. Harry watches Louis with warm eyes and his smile is like a summer breeze. Louis can’t breathe and he ends up staring at Harry with memories in his eyes. 

There was a guy. Someone from a music festival. But Louis can’t get the guy’s name into his mind. He knows there was someone, but he can’t remember his face or his name. His voice or his smell. And for the first time, Louis isn’t sure why he’s remembering his previous life. He hasn’t paid much attention to memories before. But now, when he’s with Harry, memories rip his concentration apart and he’s hit with things that he can’t put to place. 

 

“When did you start playing the guitar?” Louis distracts his jumbled thoughts, focusing on Harry’s eyes. The green swallows him like just cut grass in the dim light of a summer sunset. 

“When I was eight, it was very exciting,” Harry smiles, taking a sip from his water which a waiter brought for them after they made their order. 

“Have you played any other instrument?” Louis feels like he’s a game show host. He’s asking questions and feeling like he’s somewhere else. His mind is thinking about that other guy, but at the same time he’s making an effort to stay here. He has to help Harry and he needs to find out why he needs help. 

Harry looks down at his hands, a sigh shaking his shoulders. Louis waits for an answer, but when Harry lifts his gaze back to him, he doesn’t get one. A tight smile adorns Harry’s face, his eyes harder. 

 

“So, what do you do?” Harry makes a blatant move to change the subject. It takes Louis off guard and he blinks for a few times. Why isn’t Harry answering his question? Louis opens his mouth to lead the questions back to Harry, but Harry is quicker. 

“Do you study or work? Have you always lived here?” Harry tilts his head, his tense shoulders a clear sign of him being on the edge. He’s not going to answer Louis. He doesn’t want to share some part of his past. Instead he wants to get to know Louis. The tricky thing is, Louis doesn’t know what to say. He can’t tell Harry that he’s here because Harry needs help with something. Louis can’t say that he’s actually not alive. Harry would laugh straight to Louis’ face and probably leave. Louis doesn’t want to lie either. So he has to take the second best route. 

“I’m taking a bit of a break from everything,” Louis nods and smiles. He bites his teeth together so tightly that it starts to hurt. 

“That sounds nice,” Harry smiles, sipping his water again. 

“What are you taking a break from?” Harry opens his mouth again, when Louis is about to ask another question from him. Harry’s voice makes him shut his mouth and swallow hard. He thought Harry already got the answer he was after. 

“Just… Life in general,” Louis isn’t going to give Harry anything else. 

“I wish I could take a break from life too,” Harry snickers and leans back against his seat. Louis smiles at him, not saying anything. Apparently Harry isn’t going to answer any of Louis’ questions anymore. And Louis just can’t answer any of Harry’s anymore for obvious reasons. Is this it, is this all? Louis has to know more! So he can help Harry, of course. 

The face of that nameless man comes to his mind again from his previous life. It paralyses Louis, making him stare at the table. Sandy hair, warm brown eyes. But still no names pop to his mind. It’s just a pretty boy with no name and a memory, where Louis knew that man. 

 

“Oh, I think that’s our food,” Harry’s voice echoes outside from Louis’ thoughts, waking him to reality. Louis lifts his eyes to see a waiter coming closer with two dishes of fish and chips and two beers. Harry scoots closer to the table, thanking the young man who places the food and drinks in front of them. 

“Bon appetite,” Harry says, taking a chip between his fingers and eating it slowly. He smirks and takes a piece of fish. He squeezes lemon from some segments and hums happily, when he eats his food. Louis looks at the plate in front of him, the name Jeremy flowing to his mind. He took Jeremy here. This isn’t the first time Louis is here for a date, he took other guys here as well. And he came here often with Jeremy. 

“Is there something wrong with your food?” Harry asks, eating another chip with wide eyes. 

“No, no it’s good, I just… remembered something and it’s kind of throwing me off,” Louis explains and feels almost happy that he isn’t lying. But he isn’t feeling good either. This isn’t the best moment to remember something from his old life that he had to say goodbye to too early. He misses it. He misses living. Now he has to walk this earth and wonder why he’s here.

Harry keeps staring at Louis, wondering why he isn’t eating when he’s eating one of the most appetising dinners in a while. Louis picks up a single French fry and takes a bite. His eyes find Harry’s who quickly turns his gaze away with a smirk. Louis keeps eating while not tasting anything. He’d want to go and find that guy from his distant memories. 

 

The silence keeps growing and eventually, when even Louis’ plate is getting emptier, it starts to bother him. 

“What do you do, for work or in life?” Louis lets his mouth talk the words slowly, testing the grounds. Harry’s hand stops when he’s about to put the last fry into his mouth. He lowers his hand and stares at the potato chip in his hand, like it could give him answers. He presses his lips together and sighs deeply. 

“I play the guitar during the day, I sometimes have a gig during the evening at some open mic night. I write songs. That’s about it,” Harry gives a hopeless laugh, sticking the last fry into his mouth. Louis doesn’t continue eating but a thought comes to his mind. What if he’s here because Harry needs to find a way to succeed in life? What if Louis is the one who should push Harry forward? Louis takes a sip of his beer to calm his nerves. Maybe this could be it! Easy! 

 

“You really are a musician then?” Louis cocks an eyebrow, eating some of his fish. Harry smirks, drinking his beer to avoid answering. Louis isn’t the one to let his eyes drift away from Harry though. He’s waiting to hear Harry’s voice. 

“Yes, not a very successful one, at least not yet… But hopefully someday I’ll be recording albums and touring and whatever musicians do,” Harry’s eyes glimmer in the dimness of the bar, when he decides to eye Louis under his lashes. 

“Does it pay well?” Louis keeps on throwing questions at Harry. 

“At this point… No, not so much.”

“Oh?” 

“I barely get enough money to buy food. My parents pay for my rent and they’re threatening to stop paying for my flat because they aren’t so keen on me going after my dream. Open mic nights pay a bit better, but it’s still not like I’d be living in a house made out of diamonds.” Harry nods his head slowly, maybe even understanding the condition of his life just now. Maybe he hasn’t thought about it like this before. Maybe talking to Louis has opened his eyes a bit. 

 

“Well, tonight’s on me,” Louis smiles, earning a lazy laugh from Harry. 

“I kind of hoped you’d say that,” Harry leans back against his seat with the beer in his hand. He keeps drinking it slowly, his head nodding along to the soft music that’s streaming from the old jukebox. 

“What’s your dream?” Harry narrows his eyes, when he asks the question. He’s trying to get some big reaction out of Louis, but the only thing he gets is a slow blink of Louis’ eyes. What is Louis’ dream? What was his dream? 

“I guess… I want to figure out who I am,” Louis admits slowly, sticking to his promise to not lie to Harry. 

“I wish I could have a dream like that,” Harry smiles, combing his hair with his fingers. 

“Why can’t you?” Louis wonders out loud, a bit surprised by Harry’s wording. 

“Because my dream is music. I’ve wanted to do something music related since I was a child and now the dream is only stronger,” Harry shrugs with a smile. Louis realises that the first time tonight Harry isn’t hiding behind a thick skin or his way of not giving away too much. 

 

“Maybe you can pursue another dream alongside music?” 

“No, I want to focus on music alone. I’d just lose focus on the important things if I had to do something else too,” Harry finishes his beer and sets the pint on the table. 

“And music is more important than something else?” Louis really wants to understand Harry. He’s a bit confused – if Harry is barely living when he’s trying to reach his dream, why does he want to do it so bad? 

“Yes,” Harry simply says, not hesitating at all. 

“But why do you want to do it if you aren’t even succeeding?” Louis lets the words out of his mouth before he gets the chance to think about them. As soon as he hears himself ask the question, Harry’s face twists from a gentle smile to a grim stare. His eyes narrow, the green turning colder. 

“I just mean… Why aren’t you doing anything else that could maybe support your music things?” Louis tries to soften the atmosphere, but Harry’s stare gets even angrier. 

“Because music is my life. I’ve wanted to be a musician since I was six years old. Do you know how rare it is to actually know what you want to do? Other twentysomething year olds could have a lot of dreams, but they don’t know which dream they want to choose. I’ve chosen my dream and I’m sticking with it.” 

 

Louis turns his eyes away from Harry, whose whole body gets tighter and he sits like he has swallowed a steel pipe. 

“You should understand me! You’re just trying to figure out who you are and I already know who I am! Or at least I thought I knew. But apparently I didn’t when a complete stranger can decide my future for me just after an hour.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. Of course it’s amazing that you have a dream, I’m just wondering why…” 

“Why I’m not doing something else, why I’m not doing real work. You know, you sound just like my dad,” Harry spits, standing up. 

“Thanks for the dinner,” he says with bored eyes, walking hastily out of the pub. The music keeps on playing, other people doing what they were doing earlier and not paying any attention to Harry or Louis. 

 

“Can I get you anything else?” The waiter comes just in time to wake Louis from his thoughts. If Harry needs help with his career, maybe he wouldn’t have been so upset. Maybe that’s not the reason why Louis is here. 

“Uh, no thanks, just the check please,” Louis asks, trying to think hard why he needs to help Harry. He needs help with something, but at this point Louis isn’t even sure if he wants to help a person like Harry. He seems a little full of himself with those smouldering eyes and wise words. Maybe Louis’ mum thought wrong. Maybe Harry doesn’t need any help. He seems to be surviving well on his own. 

 

Louis pays for the dinner and stares at the half full pint on the table. He isn’t really sure what he should do right now. Going after Harry seems a little silly, especially when he’s completely right. They’re still complete strangers to each other. They know nothing about one another and Louis would want to keep it that way. If Harry needs a friend, Louis isn’t going to be a good friend for him. He’d need to lie all the time or at least keep a lot of things to himself. And in the end it would be quite a burden to live a life that wouldn’t even be for him.

Louis isn’t living. That’s the truth. He’s just here to be something. And he wouldn’t want to waste that time on Harry, especially when Louis doesn’t know how much time he actually has before he has to finally say goodbye to this world. 

 

Louis thanks the waiter when he passes the young man and leaves the pub. The cold evening air seems to clear his head a bit and he can think reasonably again. Maybe he isn’t built for this friend thing. Maybe it’s just not his thing to be someone’s friend when he can’t create a real bond with them. That’s it. It’s almost relieving to realise that. He doesn’t have to be Harry’s friend, he can just let go and do whatever he’s supposed to do with this extra time he has been given. 

Maybe he should go see his dad. That’s become one of his “favourite” past times now. He likes to spend time in his old room and go through his things when he has the opportunity. But usually his mum decides what they do there, not giving Louis the space he’d like to have. The dark curtain is always present in his old home and it sometimes prevents him from seeing things clearly. Pictures and clear memories are blurry, creating a dreamlike world. Louis usually ends up watching his dad, who sleeps, with his mum, but his dreams are disturbed by nightmares. Louis and Donna are there to make him calm again. Not by showing themselves of course, but to make his dad feel safe again. Make the atmosphere in the house calm and it usually works for his dad. 

Louis just needs to find his mum because she always wants to come and reminisce her old life too. Louis starts to walk along the pavement, watching people pass him by. He hides his face so no one can notice it’s him. Even though they wouldn’t recognise Louis, he’s so used to do it. Hiding his true identity has become a natural thing for him. The possibility of someone knowing that it’s Louis is very low, but still, he wants to be sure no one knows who he is. 

 

“We’re not going to go see dad,” Louis’ mum finds him first. She walks calmly next to him, forcing Louis to slow his steps.

“Why not?” Louis looks at his mum from the corner of his eye, seeing the glowing wings behind her back. He wonders if anyone else can see her or her wings. Or if it’s just Louis who can talk to her and know that she’s walking next to him. 

“You should find Harry,” she simply orders, making her steps so slow that it seems like she isn’t even walking. 

“I kind of decided not to be his friend. The man is rude! And we don’t get along that well,” Louis tries to reason, but his mum’s expression tells him that she’s isn’t buying it. 

 

“Well why should I find him?” 

“He needs a friend. You just need to get to know him better. Make him tell you things about himself. You’ll notice why he needs help. Please go and find him before he gets hurt. Please, Louis,” her eyes get sad while she’s staring at Louis. 

“Why can’t he find a friend who’s… Living?” Louis stops his words when a group of people walk past him and his mum. 

“It’s not that simple for him.” 

“It’s not that simple for me either,” Louis argues back, turning his back to his mum. He thinks he’s gotten rid of her and can go see his dad, but she appears behind a corner. He sighs and stops. He tilts his head, feeling like he’s a teenager who is getting grounded for smoking or getting too drunk. 

 

“I really am asking you to be his friend, Louis. Please, go find him.” 

She takes Louis’ hand into hers and searches for his eyes. When Louis lets his sight drift to her, she smiles gently, pleading for his help. 

“Fine,” Louis lets out a long sigh, his mum beaming with a radiant smile on her face. 

“Thank you!” 

“But if it’s not working, then I’m not going to be his friend,” Louis says seriously, his mum agreeing with a nod. 

“Now go find him, he might need your help,” she says, letting go of Louis’ hand. 

“Where is he?” 

“I’m not sure, maybe you need to find him yourself.” 

Louis lifts his brows at his mum for being so vague when sometimes she can be very precise about certain details. Like the first night when Louis met Harry, she told Louis exactly what Harry was wearing. And it wasn’t even hard to find him from that bar that night. He was the only one under 40, other than the bartender. 

“I love you,” she offers with a smile. 

“Love you too, mum,” Louis smiles, getting on his way. 

 

Where is he going to find Harry? He wouldn’t want to bother his head with these type of questions when he isn’t even enthusiastic on finding the guy. Harry is arrogant and not that nice. But he’s not going to break his promise to his mum. If Harry really needs help, then someone should be there to help him. Still, Louis doesn’t understand why Harry’s family isn’t helping him. Or his friends. At least his parents are paying for his rent, that’s quite good. But the problem might not be money. And it’s certainly not his choice of career. What else could it be? If he needs a friend, then how could Louis be the best friend he can be? 

He needs to be as honest as possible. Maybe he should also prepare a story for Harry, so he’s not completely in trouble when he has to share something about his background. Maybe he can tell Harry things he actually remembers, those bits and pieces that have come to his mind. Like the fact that he’s studying in a university. The problem is that he can’t remember his major. Maybe Louis can say that he’s thinking about changing it. He can also remember that his grandparents live somewhere up north. He can’t remember where exactly, but that could be because he’s been there so rarely that he’s forgotten it. He’ll come up with a coherent story, he can do it. 

 

Louis comes to the spot where Harry usually plays his guitar. He isn’t even sure why he thought Harry could be here; Harry just told that he doesn’t play during the evenings. Other than open mic nights. Maybe there’s an open mic night in some nearby pub. Louis starts his round from the nearest pub, the next open mic night not until two weeks. Louis goes to the next bar he knows, no sight of any bands or artists. 

For some reason Louis gets anxious. He actually feels that he needs to find Harry, and soon. His mum said, that he needs to find Harry before anything happens. What could happen? Could Harry harm himself? No, he doesn’t seem like a person who could do that to himself. But usually, the people who harm themselves don’t usually seem like people who could do that. An uncomfortable lump rises to Louis’ throat. He needs to find Harry. And it has to happen now. 

 

Then a certain pub comes to his mind. The one where he met Harry for the first time. That’s his last chance. Louis walks swiftly to the pub, his mind making him go faster when he thinks that Harry might not be there either. Where can he find Harry then? From his apartment? But Louis has never been there and he’d need a key to get inside the building. 

Unpleasant coldness spreads around his chest, making his unmoving heart feel like it’s beating too fast. He actually feels like his dead heart might rip through his chest and he could see it pumping blood hundred times in a second right in front of his own eyes. He can hear the beating in his ears, the bar right there across the street. Louis isn’t sure how he can even feel like his heart is beating, he hasn’t felt it beat since… Since never. But now when it is beating, he’s taking frisk steps towards the bar and his hands are shaking. If Harry isn’t there, he’s going to burst into tears. The beating in his ears makes everything else feel faint. Just a couple of steps and he’s there. 

He lifts his hand up even before he’s at the door, ready to push it open. His legs feel like they aren’t even moving, they feel too heavy. Until his palm touches the door and he pushes it.

The bar is a bit more crowded than the first time he was there. Music is playing and people are talking, the tone isn’t as creepy as that night two weeks ago. Louis’ eyes roam the bar, trying to see a cloud of curls or a leather jacket. He spots the same bartender, the one with the brown eyes and pleasant smile. 

Louis walks to the bar, pushing his way through the line of people who are trying to get drinks. He tries to get the bartender’s attention, but it’s hard in a crowd like this. He lifts his hand up time and time again, but men who are much larger than him make Louis feel small and disappear into the crowd. Louis keeps on searching the bar while he waits for the man behind the counter to notice him. But no leather jacket or dark curls catch his eye. 

Louis lifts his hand up again when the bartender is closer. He looks Louis’ way just at the right moment and his eyes flash with joy when he spots a familiar face. 

 

“Hi!” He comes to say to Louis, other customers unhappy that Louis got the bartender’s attention. 

“Hi. I, ummm, I’m Louis and I was here a couple of weeks ago. I talked to this guy, curly long hair, leather jacket, jeans… Remember him? He drank scotch…” 

“He drinks whisky, yeah, you’re looking for Harry,” the bartender looks at Louis with calmness, not needing any reminders to know who Louis is talking about. 

“Are you here to take him home? I told him to call someone to help him but I don’t know if he listened,” the man says, taking an order from a man next to Louis. 

“He’s here?” 

“Yeah, he came here running, or at least it seemed like it, almost a couple of hours ago. He’s in a pretty bad shape,” he says, giving a pint to the man on Louis’ right. A couple of hours? Did it really take Louis that long? He is a bad friend, a very bad friend. 

 

“Is he okay?” Louis feels some of the weight on his shoulders to be lifted up, but a new kind of uneasiness comes to rest on him. 

“Well physically he’s fine, but I’d say that he’s had about ten drinks too much,” the bartender tries to make a joke of it, but his eyes tell that this isn’t the first time when Harry has drank too much. 

“Where can I find him?” Louis questions before a woman tries to push her way to his place. 

“There, in one of the booths. If you get him home, thank you. I would’ve helped him myself, but my shift doesn’t end in another four hours so it’s good if someone gets him home before that,” the friendly bartender says and points towards the left of the bar. Maybe he’s Harry’s friend? He seems nice. 

“Yeah, I’ll get him home. Thank you…” Louis tilts his head, the bartender knowing what he’s looking for. 

“Liam,” he says and smiles. 

“Thanks, Liam,” Louis says to him, coating his words with a small smile. He leaves the counter to let others take his space. He starts his way towards the booths. Smaller and bigger groups have taken over the tables with their drinks and loud laughter. 

And then there’s someone with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a glass in his other. His eyes are half shut and his whole body sways even though he’s sitting quietly on his own. He looks at the glass in his hand and then at the bottle. He’s clearly trying to decide something. Until Louis knows what it is when Harry lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a huge swig. Harry shuts his eyes and his face doesn’t even twist with a grimace anymore. He’s had a lot to drink. 

 

Louis doesn’t know what he should do. He doesn’t know how Harry will react when he sees Louis. If Harry is aggressive or if he’ll cling to Louis for dear life. Louis only stands there and tries to decide what he should do, until Harry lifts his bleary eyes to stare at Louis in front of him. For a moment he blinks his eyes until he starts to laugh. It’s a silent laugh; a mocking sound that makes Louis want to turn around and leave Harry. If Harry decides to poison himself with all the alcohol, then it’s his problem, not Louis’. 

“Where you going?” Harry asks with his husky, drunk voice. Louis stops and sighs deeply. He closes his eyes and wishes he never came here. He didn’t want to find Harry. Maybe that’s why it took him so long to even find him. But now he’s asking why Louis is here and Louis actually feels like he needs to explain himself.

He turns around and finds Harry leaning against the table, the bottle tightly clutched in his hands. He has just lifted it to his lips again, Louis can still see the wetness on his skin. Harry is waiting for an answer. He’s looking at Louis with anticipation, but his eyes look like they’re going to shut soon. Louis walks to the table and leans his hands against the surface. He towers over Harry, who has to look up to see Louis’ eyes. 

 

“I’m going away because I can’t stand you drunk,” Louis simply states. 

“Why did you come here then? You must’ve known I’m drunk when you came here,” Harry slurs the words out slowly, trying to remember how to pronounce them. He smirks proudly when he’s made a coherent sentence. The smirk only makes Louis angrier. 

“I don’t know, maybe I thought you’d need help so I came looking for you. Now I wish I hadn’t found you,” Louis stands up and starts his way out. He pushes through the crowd that has come to order drinks and are now blocking Louis’ way to the door. When he finally gets out, he lets out a breath and fills his lungs with fresh air. Finally he’s free from that claustrophobic space. 

 

“Can you wait?” Louis hears behind him and when he turns around, there Harry is, stumbling out from the bar. He’s definitely going to trip over his own feet if he keeps walking. Luckily Harry stays to stand by the brick wall where he leans his back. 

“Why should I wait?” Louis crosses his arms defensively in front of his chest. Harry doesn’t say anything and his head keeps swaying from side to side. He looks grey, like a ghost of the same person who Louis met earlier. Louis is tired of the drunk man, but he’s still capable of empathy. He walks to Harry and drapes Harry’s arm around his neck. 

“Let’s go,” Louis says silently, his other hand securely on Harry’s waist. Harry leans his head against Louis’ and he keeps mumbling about something, but Louis can’t comprehend anything he’s saying. They walk slowly and Louis has to make sure that Harry is also moving his legs. He has to remind Harry many times not to fall on his knees and give up. Louis has to get Harry home, no matter what. The night is getting colder and Louis knows they have to get to Harry’s soon. 

 

Louis lets out a sigh of relief when Harry’s building comes to view. Harry has already shut his eyes and his whole body is leaned against Louis’. Louis is very sure that Harry is in the brink of falling asleep. He keeps talking to Harry, saying things like “this is the 20th street light we’re passing” and “there are three people on the other side of the street” and always Harry mumbles something in return. But when Louis says: “There’s an old paper bag on the street”, Harry doesn’t answer. His breathing is slowing down and his legs are moving even more lazily. 

“Harry! Wake up!” Louis almost yells into Harry’s ear. He startles from his light sleep and opens his eyes until he shuts them again and mumbles. At least Harry’s moving his legs more which makes Louis’ job easier. 

 

“Okay, here we are,” Louis holds his other hand on Harry’s hip and his other on Harry’s stomach, as he leads them up the stairs. He pats Harry’s pockets and finds Harry’s keys from the pocket of his jeans. They really are tight and Louis actually wonders how the boy got them on. Louis opens the front door and lets them inside into the warmth of the building. The corridor smells like pizza, chicken and newspapers. 

“Harry, you need to tell me the number of your apartment,” Louis orders and Harry murmurs something into Louis’ ear. 

“Please, try to use words,” Louis pleads and starts their way towards the stairs. Harry’s head sways back and he almost loses his balance. 

“Harry please, try to co-operate,” Louis holds Harry up and they walk onto the first floor. Louis leaves Harry standing by the wall, where there is no danger of Harry accidentally falling or ringing anyone’s doorbell. 

“Okay Harry, let’s focus. What is the number of your apartment? Or what’s your last name?” Louis holds his hands on Harry’s shoulders and tries to get Harry’s attention. His eyes are half open, but they aren’t focusing on anything. 

“Harry, can you hear me?” Louis lifts his hand up to Harry’s cheek and holds his face still. Harry nods, his eyes blinking slowly. 

“Can you tell me which floor you live?” Louis tries again and this time something clicks in Harry’s eyes. He lifts his hand and he’s holding four fingers up. 

“On the fourth floor?” Louis asks, raising his brows. Harry nods. 

“Okay, let’s go then,” Louis takes a firm hold of Harry before he starts walking him to the fourth floor. The corridor is dark and the dim lamps on the walls aren’t really helping. 

 

Finally, when they manage to step onto the right floor, Louis stops and tries to figure out how he’s going to know which apartment is Harry’s. But he doesn’t have to do much, when Harry starts to lead them towards a door in the darkest corner. 21, that’s the number of the apartment. 

“Is it this one?” Louis asks and Harry nods again. Louis takes Harry’s key from his pocket and opens it after trying two of Harry’s keys into the lock. Where the other keys go, Louis doesn’t know. But at least there was only three keys, not a whole set. 

“Okay, here we go,” Louis helps Harry inside and closes the door after them. 

 

The apartment is dark and Louis’ hand fumbles against the wall to find a light switch. His fingers find one and when he clicks the lights on, a light in the kitchen area behind a breakfast bar turns on. It’s set to point towards the sink and the fridge. Louis can’t really see anything else other than the kitchen and some of the living room, but he still leads Harry, or then Harry leads him, past the kitchen and closer to the living room. 

Louis peeks his head around the doorway into the living room and there, behind that wall, is a sleeping alcove. A white curtain separates it from the living room and the bed is a on a platform. Louis guides Harry towards his bed and as soon as they are close enough, Louis pulls the curtain open and Harry crashes onto the bed. With heavy limbs he crawls away from the edge and Louis follows with his hands reached out. He takes off Harry’s shoes and jacket and wonders if he should help Harry out of his other clothes too. But then he decides against it and only makes sure Harry is on his side and he’s breathing. 

 

Louis stands there by the bed for a few moments, watching Harry sleep. He nuzzles closer to the pillow in his sleep, his limbs sinking into the mattress. Maybe he needs a bucket if he gets sick. 

Louis turns around and sees a lamp standing by a corner. He puts it on and looks at his surroundings. Pieces of paper lay here and there, Harry’s guitar standing under the window. There’s no carpets or plants. Just papers on the floor. A white two seater is placed next to the lamp and in front of it is a small table. A lonely arm chair is on the other side of that table, a shirt hanging from the back. There’s nothing else in the living room, just paper and those four pieces of furniture. 

Louis makes his way into the kitchen and opens the cabinets. Not much space has been used, because only one cabinet has been filled with plates, glasses and some canned food. He looks into the fridge and finds a piece of cheese, some jam and a questionable red onion. Louis closes the door and turns towards the breakfast bar. There’s a jar of sugar and some tea bags in their box. Peppermint tea, hmm, not a bad choice. 

When he can’t find anything else interesting, Louis continues his way through the apartment and finds himself from a little bathroom. And there it is, a blue bucket, next to a bottle of detergent and the toilet. Louis makes sure the bucket is clean before he walks back into the living room and sleeping alcove. Harry is in the same position Louis left him; still hugging his pillow. 

He looks a lot younger, even when he’s drunk. Louis places the bucket next to the bed and sees a light switch on the floor. He looks at Harry from the corner of his eye to make sure he’s in deep sleep, before Louis clicks the switch. A cord of fairy lights shine their warm light on the wall by the ceiling. They also show Louis the Polaroid pictures that have been taped onto the wall. 

There’s a girl in many of them. She smiles widely, her eyes almost shut. There’s a close up of her eye and the side of her nose and freckles, and her lips. There’s also a picture of her and Harry and they look oddly similar. She’s a bit more smiley than Harry is, but their eyes and noses are definitely the same shape. In one picture, there’s a lot of birds and in one there are clouds against a blue sky. The pictures are endless and Louis could keep watching them for a long time.

 

Harry stirs in his sleep and he starts to make a weird noise. He lifts his upper body up from the bed and moves his legs towards the edge to get out of the bed. 

“Harry, I brought a bucket for you if you need to… If you feel like you’ll be sick,” Louis says with a gentle voice. Harry stops and lets his body slump against the mattress. His light snores convince Louis that he fell back asleep. Louis lets the light stay on, but moves the bucket a little closer to the bed. He also closes the curtain to give Harry more privacy, even though Harry wouldn’t really even notice if someone was there or not. 

 

Louis toes off his shoes and takes them by the door with Harry’s shoes and leather jacket. A lot of boots are scattered on the floor and a few jackets hang on the rack. He comes back into the living room and sits on the couch. 

He has to stay here. Harry can’t be left alone like this. What if he chokes on his own vomit? Then it’d definitely be Louis’ fault. And that’s not what he wants. And that’s definitely not what Harry would want. So Louis only sits there, not knowing what he could do. 

He doesn’t want to touch Harry’s things which are laid a bit all over the place. This really shows how creative Harry has to be. Louis isn’t going to sleep either. Not because he isn’t tired, because he isn’t. But because he can’t sleep when he’s here. On earth. Here he’s someone’s guardian angel. And that requires him to be awake. 

Then it hits Louis. He’s here to be Harry’s guardian angel. He can help Harry. With Louis’ eyes wide open, he turns to look at Harry, whose breathing is slow and deliberate. This is certainly a moment when he needs someone to take care of him. Louis furrows his brows together and makes himself comfortable on the couch. This can be a long night. He leans his arm against the back and his head on his hand. 

 

His eyes drift onto the papers that are laying on the floor and on the table. Some are filled with text, some contain notes. Louis picks up one of the text filled papers and reads the words through. They seem to be only lines of words scattered on the white, but when Louis starts to read them through, he realizes it’s a poem. 

The one who lost / the one who won / the one who lived / the one who died / the one who saw / the one who heard / screams in the dark / dark is the night / and night is my friend / can you be dead in the dark? / Or can it bring you alive? / Only the dead can tell / who live in the dark.

 

Louis reads through the words over and over, seeing how Harry’s hand has hesitated at some points. Some words have been written with more force than others. Some are faint on the paper, almost as if Harry wouldn’t have wanted to write them down. Harry’s mind has to be a dark place to be writing something like this. That’s the only thought in Louis’ head. He picks up another paper, where a lot of over lined words have made their home. There’s also another poem that was clearly Harry’s favourite, because he has left all the words untouched. 

Her eyes are green / her smile is bright / her heart is pure / her mind is clear / when she tells you she’s going / it breaks you apart / when she tells you she’s not coming back / it rips your heart apart / when she tells you she’s dying / you die with her / when you know she’s not there anymore / you stop being you. / Then you hear a familiar sound / and you know it was just a dream.

Louis’ skin crawls. Is Harry talking about the girl in those pictures? Who knows. Either way, Harry has a troubled mind and it’s not such a surprise to Louis anymore that Harry is in a serious need of a friend. Or just someone. Louis puts the papers onto the table carefully, trying to make it seem like he didn’t touch them. 

 

A worn out book peeks under some of the white papers with its dark cover. Louis lifts the papers and slides the book into his hand. He opens it from a random page and sees the pages filled with handwriting. It has to be Harry’s handwriting. 

“I failed again, no surprises there. It was my 8th rejection and I don’t know what I can do anymore. Plus I’m running low on money. I know I should maybe buy some proper food but I only want a drink in my hand and to forget this day.” 

Louis closes the book with a silent thump. It has to be Harry’s diary. Louis hides it under the papers again and wants to forget he ever read it; it’s not his business to stick his nose into Harry’s life. That wasn’t for Louis to read. Shit. Louis feels like he’s done so wrong. He wasn’t meant to do that. Maybe he needs to apologise to Harry tomorrow. That’s the only right thing to do. 

 

Harry’s leg twitches against the sheets. He groans in his sleep, a low growl vibrating from his chest. Louis’ senses catch the sounds like a light attracts moths. His eyes are on Harry in a nanosecond, listening and watching if Harry needs help. Harry turns to his side and then slowly to his back. He’s hugging a pillow on top of his chest, his legs spread and his toes wiggling for a moment. Then he’s out again. Maybe he’s dreaming about something. Louis switches the light off from the corner, if it bothers Harry. Darkness falls into the room and the only light is coming from the fairy lights. 

Louis can’t stop watching him. He can’t stop thinking about Harry and the things that he might’ve gone through. Why doesn’t Harry have friends? Not a partner? His family doesn’t live here. Also, who is the girl in the pictures? Is she related to Harry? Has something happened to her? Louis’ mind is buzzing with questions that pop to his head like heating popcorn. 

 

“He hasn’t gone through such things you’re thinking about,” Louis’ mum talks in a low voice. She sounds like a wind chime would tingle lightly in the room. Her voice gets swallowed by the night, though, and she sounds like she’s far away. Louis wasn’t expecting to hear her voice or see her in the shadows of this room filled with sorrow. His attention turns from Harry to Donna, to his mum, who is looking out the window. Her wings are more visible in the dark. The light from the fairy lights don’t reach her and in this moment she looks like a heavenly creature more than she has ever before. 

“He’s just broken,” she continues, turning to Louis. Her face looks soft, her eyes filled with warmth like a loving hug. She walks over to Louis and sits next to him. 

“He just hasn’t been loved enough,” she turns her eyes to Harry, who has no idea what’s going on in his apartment. His breathing is slow and his body is still. 

“He sleeps more peacefully when we’re here,” Louis’ mum’s eyes turn to look Louis wickedly, a playful smirk on her lips. 

“Just like your dad,” she says in a whisper. Louis feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to feel when he’s feeling too much. All the emotions, which he keeps inside, are crushing him. All the confusion in him makes him weak; it doesn’t make him feel good about himself. He should know more, he should be able to be there for people who need him. But he can’t really do that, he can’t be a friend or someone’s support. He’s not here. 

 

“Why do I need to be his friend? Why me? Why can’t you do it?” Louis asks, his eyes catching the glint from his mum, but his eyes are firmly on Harry. 

“Harry needs someone who he can trust. He needs a friend who listens and helps but also gives him a challenge. He needs someone who can push him forward. I wouldn’t be able to do that. He already has a mum and I’ve lost the privilege to be a caring mum. I know that you can be a friend who Harry deserves and needs.” 

Louis processes his mother’s words. She’s talking in riddles, they don’t make sense to him. 

 

“So I need to get to know him better?” 

“Of course, you can’t be anyone’s friend if you don’t know them,” she tells him and smiles. Her hand rises to stroke Louis’ cheek a couple of times, before she turns back towards Harry. 

“Why can’t you just give me all the answers? It seems that you know his story,” Louis feels like this is a very inappropriate question. When he was still a human, he didn’t ask his mum to get to know his friends for him. Why now then? 

“No, I can’t. I might know some things, but I don’t know him any better than you do,” Donna talks in whispers. Louis nods at her words and settles against the couch. They sit in silence for a while, watching how peacefully Harry sleeps. It makes Louis wonder when the last time, when Harry slept so calmly, was. But there’s also another thought in Louis’ mind that urges itself forward. 

“Mum?” He asks, his voice humming in his core. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Why did you say that you’ve lost the privilege to be a caring mum? You’re still my mum and I know you care,” Louis tears his eyes away from Harry and watches his mum turn towards Louis. 

“You can’t just stop being my mum even if we’re dead,” Louis keeps pressing, the crushing feeling inside of him making it hard for him to breathe. Donna takes Louis’ hands into hers and keeps them against her palms. 

“You’re always going to be my son, no matter what,” she says and smiles. There’s a familiarity in that smile.

Louis feels like he’s very young again, like a just born baby that sees his mother for the first time. Donna’s smile reminds Louis of something that he couldn’t be able to remember if he was still living. The love in her eyes is so unconditional that he has to turn his eyes away. He can’t watch his mum, who has tears in her eyes, when the image mixes with the memory of him seeing his mum for the first time. 

The bond is so strong that even when he’s not watching his mum, he can feel her eyes on him. He can feel her affection. He can feel how much she cares. Donna lifts her hand to Louis’ cheek once again and forces him gently to look her in the eyes. She tilts her head and in those dark eyes that glint in the faint light, something stays hidden. 

“You’re always going to be my son, Louis, I want you to remember that,” she says and her words rest deep in Louis. The words hit him like a train, a new memory. But he can’t remember what memory it is, he can’t connect the words and the moment. He can’t even see a moment where Donna used those words. But they ache in Louis’ gut, they make him feel sick. He’s forced to look at his mum and he’s feeling nauseous by the loving words. Why can’t he remember the moment? 

Donna rests her hands to her lap and turns back towards Harry. Louis tries to remain calm even though he’d want to jump up and run away. When he searches for Harry in the darkness, his mind quiets and his limbs freeze. Earlier he might’ve been there for Harry to make him sleep more calmly, but this time around, the sleeping body is making Louis calmer. He’d want to go lay next to Harry and fall asleep too, but he knows he can’t do that. Especially because he can’t fall asleep. 

 

Time passes by and the sun starts to rise behind the window. The fairy lights bring the same amount of light inside as the light from outside. It’s the moment of complete quietness. Louis’ ears almost start to hurt, because there are no sounds. If the neighbour dropped a pin to the floor, he could hear it. The silence doesn’t last long, until early commuters start their work days. 

“Keep him company, Louis,” Donna says and stands up. 

“You’re going?” Louis looks up, but avoids looking into his mother’s eyes. He doesn’t want to experience the pain again that he felt a couple of hours earlier. Donna nods and smiles, before she walks away. She leaves through the door which makes Louis feel more comfortable. This way he knows she really left. 

 

Louis relaxes against the couch. Harry hasn’t moved in a couple of hours, other than breathed. He’s still hugging the pillow and Louis can’t stop thinking if Harry imagines the pillow to be someone. Maybe Harry thinks that the pillow is someone who he cares about. Maybe in Harry’s dream the pillow is hugging him back? 

The morning sunlight starts to stream in. The fairy lights become unnecessary to be on so Louis tip toes to turn them off. Harry stirs in his sleep, but then falls back into his dream world. Louis wonders back towards the couch but he can’t sit still anymore. Maybe he needs to make a plan. A plan that can help Harry. 

Obviously he needs a friend. And Harry wants to be a musician. If he’s been rejected by recording companies, maybe Harry needs help with making his demo. He also needs someone who he can trust, just like Donna said. If Louis can gain Harry’s trust, maybe Harry can let some things out. Maybe it’ll make him feel better. If Louis is just there for him, then it should be fine. 

Firstly, he needs to apologise for last night. Not because he read Harry’s journal. It’s going to be just between him and the journal, Harry will never know. But Louis needs to apologize for saying such a thing to Harry; that Harry shouldn’t follow his dream to be a musician. That he should pursue some other future; a future that he wouldn’t be comfortable with. 

And the best way to do that is make Harry breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 4 
> 
> Sigur Rós / Valtari  
> The 1975 / Me  
> Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions / Charlotte  
> Panda Su / Éric is dead  
> British Sea Power/Man of Aran  
> Peter Broderick / Rotebode  
> Arctic Monkeys / 505  
> The 1975 / Please Be Naked

Harry keeps his eyes closed even though he’s been awake for a while now. It’s silent; he can only hear his own breathing. It’s actually nice to wake up, at least once in his life, to a feeling of complete serenity. For once he feels like he doesn’t have any worries in his life, no things to sort out, nothing to think about. He just is and he doesn’t have to be anywhere. He doesn’t have to care about anyone else other than himself, he doesn’t have to think about anything. 

Until last night comes flashing back to his mind. Only flashbacks, but still flashes of last night flood the parts that Harry isn’t using. He was with that guy, his name is… Harry forgets to breathe when he remembers that he doesn’t know the man’s name. Harry is sure the man has called him by his name, but Harry has never heard him introduce himself. What if the man has only been a creation of his imagination? 

Harry’s eyes start to move behind his eyelids. His heart starts to beat more erratically, an unpleasant feeling taking over his limbs. He needs to move. He’s been still for too long. Harry starts by wiggling his toes and making fists with his hands. The feeling of knowing that he still has his limbs left makes him feel relieved. The complete relaxation isn’t for him anymore and he needs the movement, he needs to feel his muscles moving. He needs to feel his limbs so he knows they’re still there. 

 

The flashbacks aren’t the only things that start to make their way to Harry’s head. A torturing headache trembles on his temples, making him squeeze his eyes shut more tightly and lift his hands to cover his face. What did he do last night? How did he even get home? The last memory Harry has is from the pub. He was sitting alone but did someone come home with him? It could’ve been Liam who got him home, but usually Liam doesn’t take off his shoes. Where are his shoes? He did have shoes on when he came back home, didn’t he? 

Harry really can’t remember. And he doesn’t even want to remember. What is there to remember; the night was like so many others. He went to have some sort of a date with a stranger, they hurt him and then he drank to get rid of the disappointment. The same thing has happened too many times to remember it. To make it anything special. Somehow he always gets screwed over. No one really takes him seriously and he gets to be the laughing-stock once again. But what if he didn’t come home alone? What if someone is still here? What if someone is sleeping next to him? They’d make some noise, wouldn’t they? Harry dares to peek his eyes open through his hands and look to his right. No one’s there. He’s the only one who has slept in his bed, the other side is too neat to be actually used. 

 

There can’t be anyone in his flat. Harry lets out a relieved breath, taking his hands off his face. The ceiling looks the same as always. Light greyness of the ending winter makes it look even whiter than before. It’s a cold whiteness that’s almost blinding. Like snow, when sunshine hits the surface on a cold winter day. The headache makes the ceiling look like it’s coming closer and it’s going to crush Harry. He has to get out from the bed, he can’t lay there all day. He has to do something. 

As soon as Harry sits up and swings his feet over the edge of the bed, he feels extremely nauseous. It doesn’t help that he feels the floor under his feet, it’s just a proof that he’s facing another day of his boring life and no one is there to share it with. He slowly rubs circles to his temples, but it doesn’t ease his pain. He opens his eyes and for a moment he sees only white stars floating all over his field of vision. His eyes get used to the brightness eventually and he’s able to stand up. He moves slowly, searching support from the wall. His mouth tastes like he’s eaten a bunch of rotten eggs and washed them down with vodka. The burning in his throat tells him to run into the bathroom and throw up his insides. Harry takes a tentative step forward, knowing that he can’t ignore this feeling. 

 

He runs as fast as he can before his mouth is full of his own vomit. He holds a hand to his mouth, keeping the contents of his stomach barely inside before he’s hugging the toilet. Tears stream from his eyes as he’s emptying his stomach. He can’t stand the feeling of acid coming up his throat. 

His nose burns and he isn’t sure when the feeling’s going to go away. He can’t breathe as he’s trying to cough up everything from inside of him. His skin crawls and he can feel how small drops of sweat break his pores and make their way out from his skin. It wets his clothes and his hands shake against the toilet. His legs are going to give up any second from being too weak. 

 

Finally it stops and a sense of emptiness fills Harry. He’s empty of last night’s happenings and memories. He washes them down the toilet and he can let go. Though he can’t let go. He leans his back against the wall next to the toilet and he wishes he could remember what happened last night. Times like these make him want to turn back time and make himself rational. He doesn’t need a drink every time something doesn’t go his way. He doesn’t need that drink whenever he feels disappointed. Why is he like this? 

A memory of Marie comes to his mind. He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. He can remember the time he and Marie used to go for walks in the summer. Particularly one time when the sun was setting and it coloured the sky orange. Soft orange that sucks you in and doesn’t let go. It’s warm and at the same time fresh. The scent of grass replaces the smell of vomit and he spends a moment with Marie. 

He can hear her laughter in his ears. How she used to tell stories to Harry about fairies and magic. How she took Harry away from their suffocating childhood and made it more bearable. Then they grew older. Marie’s white dresses turned black, she got tired. She wanted to run away. She wanted to disappear. She didn’t want to live her life like she was forced to live it. She told Harry stories about the world and how she wanted to experience it. She lived in her own world, where she was free to do whatever she wanted. It intrigued Harry. The stories his sister told him made him want something more. He wanted to go to an adventure with Marie, he wanted to see what was outside of his world. He wanted to play his guitar and he wanted to leave with Marie. 

But Marie was 18. Harry was only 14. He knew Marie was planning to leave, sneak out of the house one night and disappear. She had planned it all. She told Harry where she was going first. France. But she didn’t want to share anything else with him because she wasn’t sure where she was going after that. 

Harry begged her to take him with her, he didn’t want to be trapped in his home. Marie only looked at him with sad eyes and pinched his cheek. “You need to find your own adventure,” she always said. Harry always fought back, he always said that he was ready to go on an adventure now. That her adventure was already his too. But she only laughed with her clear voice and turned her back to him. Sometimes Harry saw something else than sadness in her eyes. It was worry and fear. He doesn’t know what she was frightened about, she was always so sure about leaving. But then she turned her eyes to Harry and for a brief moment Harry was faced with fake joy. 

For a moment her eyes were dark and during those moments she was someone else. She wasn’t the person Harry thought he knew. He saw something grim, something that made him worry too. Those moments made Harry forget Marie’s laughter and her bright eyes. Her delicate movements and the stories she told with her soft voice. It made him forget the moments when Marie came into Harry’s room in the middle of the night to whisper good things into his ear after he had seen a nightmare. She made it all go away, but in those dark moments, it seemed that Marie was full of those same nightmares Harry saw at night. She was filled with the nightmares that she wanted to run away from.

One morning she wasn’t there anymore. She had left. Harry remembers how he felt Marie’s lips on his forehead, stroking her fingers through his thick curls one last time. She whispered “I love you” with a choked voice and tip toed out from Harry’s room. He knew she was leaving. He heard the front door open and close. He watched his sister climb into a cab and drive away. He stayed by the window that night, hoping to see the same taxi driving back. He hoped to see his sister coming back home. He hoped to hug her and not pretend to be asleep. He wanted to hear her speak and tell him stories about that exciting world. 

For a month he stayed up every night to watch out the window. He hoped to see a cab that never came. 

 

Harry feels tears on his cheeks, new tears that make his insides ache. He wishes Marie would send him a postcard or call him from somewhere. She does that every few months. Once she surprised Harry by coming to visit him. She hasn’t gone home to see mum or dad, but Harry didn’t expect her to do so. Every time when Marie lets Harry know where she is, Harry understands her a bit more. 

Now he understands why she left because he did the same thing. He didn’t leave without telling his parents, but knows why Marie didn’t want anyone to know where she actually is. She was afraid to be captured, she was afraid to be stuck in one place. Her heart told her to leave, it told her to live and be free. Harry’s heart tells him to do music. She just had to leave, she couldn’t take it any longer. Neither could Harry. 

Sometimes Harry blames Marie for leaving. She didn’t let him know where she is until Harry’s next birthday. On the night of his 15th birthday he got a phone call. Marie wanted to congratulate him. Harry thought she was there, behind the door of their home. He expected her to ask him to come and open the door. He thought Marie would come home as a present. When she said that she has to go, Harry asked if she was home. Marie started to cry and said she loves Harry, but she can’t come home anymore. Then she hung up. Their mum had asked who it was and Harry lied that it was someone from school asking if he wanted to come over. His mum had bought it and never suspected it was Marie who called. 

Sometimes Harry thinks that Marie isn’t real. That he doesn’t have a sister. Sometimes he thinks that he imagines all those cards and phone calls. Then he takes out the cards and reads them through. They are from Marie and they are handwritten. She has written to him from all over the world. She has seen things that she always wanted to see, she has experienced beauty and sadness. She says that she has decided to stay somewhere but she isn’t ready to tell where she’s staying. She always wishes Harry is happy and loved. She always apologises that she isn’t here taking care of him. Harry can never reply to her. 

The memory of Marie is fading away. He’s had enough for today. He has to get back into this moment. He can’t live his life thinking back to something that seems so far away now. 

 

Harry feels sticky in his clothes. He doesn’t bother to take them off when he crawls into the shower and lets the water beat down on him. He sits under the stream with his head leaned against the tiles. He opens his mouth and fills it with water to wash the bad taste out. He repeats it until the taste in his mouth has turned bland. His hands and legs are still shaking, but he still manages to get up and undress from his soaking wet clothes. He peels them off and washes himself properly, feeling fresher after he’s done. He finishes by washing his teeth and drying himself with a towel. He spreads his wet clothes on the floor of the shower cubicle and walks out. 

The bathroom is filled with steam and as he steps outside, the air in his apartment feels almost cold in contrast to the bathroom. He takes weak steps towards his bed and pulls a drawer from under it. He dresses himself in a white t-shirt and black joggers, feeling a bit more like himself. He brushes his hair with his fingers and takes his towel into his hands when he hears rustling from his front door. 

 

Harry freezes with the towel in his hand, his eyes towards his door. Someone is desperately trying to get in, but apparently they are facing some difficulties. The person switches the key and still can’t get inside. Harry isn’t sure if he should go and help them or just wait to see what happens. But who could it be? He hasn’t given anyone his key. The only one who could have a spare key to his apartment could be the landlord, but Harry is sure he hasn’t done anything wrong. Or maybe he has? 

The person behind the door tries the third key and finally the door opens. Harry can only see plastic bags in the person’s, man’s, hands when he comes in. He lays one on the floor to take the key from the lock and then he pushes the door closed. He lets out a long sigh and lays the other bag on the floor next to the first one. 

Harry stares at the man, the stranger whose name he has never heard. He takes off his shoes and hangs his jacket to the stand. He pulls his sleeves up and Harry tilts his head. What is that man doing? He bends down and picks up the bags. He turns around to see Harry staring at him. He startles as he sees Harry, dropping the bags down on the floor. The contents spread out and the man isn’t sure if he should pick the groceries up or say something to Harry. 

 

“Do you need any help?” Harry decides it for the man. His mouth opens and closes as his eyes can’t find a spot to focus on. His cheeks catch a light tint of red as he nods and starts to pick the things from the floor. Harry hangs his towel onto the back of a chair and squats down to give a can of beans to the stranger. He takes it nervously while putting all the groceries onto the island. 

“Thank you,” the man says, when Harry places a box of crackers next to some other items. Harry keeps looking at the things the man has apparently bought, seeing fruit and tea and bread in the mix. Then he lifts the bags next to the other items and the man starts to empty them. Milk, cheese, jam… Harry leans himself against the kitchen island and sighs. Who is this man, what is he doing? 

 

“There’s this important question I’d like to ask you,” Harry says, his voice slow and deep. He can still taste the vomit in his mouth and for some reason the disgusting taste seems to get stronger. Like he’d need to throw up again. 

The stranger doesn’t stop emptying the grocery bags until he has gotten everything out. He squeezes the plastic bags together and tries to crumple them into a ball. They don’t stay that way, though, as they slowly open up on the table. The man looks up with wide eyes and somehow embarrassment shines through them. He waits for Harry to say what he was supposed to say, but suddenly Harry has forgotten what he was about to ask. Maybe it doesn’t matter if he didn’t know the name of that man. 

Those blue eyes that look straight through Harry seem to hit him hard. Harry stares at him while the other one isn’t giving up either. For some reason the moment between them isn’t uncomfortable or awkward. They’re both trying to figure the other out. Just seeing the stranger in Harry’s kitchen so close to Harry, living and breathing and presumably doing nice things for Harry, seems to erase all of the questions Harry had. That face is telling Harry to trust the man. He’s not here to hurt him or make him feel like he’s failed or done something wrong. That face is telling Harry to breathe calmly, relax his shoulders and smooth his forehead from the wrinkles that have formed from pulling his brows together too often. 

“You want to ask me something?” The man asks, lifting his brows a little. It’s one of the cutest movements Harry has seen a person do in a while. He tries to search a flaw from that man’s face, but he can’t find any. 

The early light, which streams in from the windows make him glow in a beautiful way. His face is strikingly smooth and beautiful. His lashes frame the blues of his eyes and Harry doesn’t even want to think about those eyelashes. They look so long and delicate, dark against the light complexion. Joy radiates from him. His eyes sparkle as he’s waiting for Harry to say something. 

And here Harry is, unable to say a word. It almost feels like Harry’s waiting for something. A sign or a mishap to happen. He needs to prove himself that this is actually happening because he doesn’t believe that this moment is real. He needs to make it real by somehow failing. That’s what his life is all about; failing and losing and realising how he’s not worthy of anything. But when there’s no sign of anything going wrong, Harry turns his eyes away. He blinks for a few times, wetting his lips and swallowing hard. His mouth is dry and his eyes feel heavy. 

 

“You okay?” The man asks when Harry still hasn’t said a word. His shy smirk leaves his face and it’s replaced with a worried look in his eyes and a fine wrinkle between his brows. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Harry dares to look back up and meet the man’s eyes. Instantly the man captures Harry with the blue that invites Harry to say something. 

“What’s your name?” Harry asks and tilts his head. He sounds more demanding than he meant to. Somehow he feels like he’s a ten year old trying to get an answer out of his parents. But those people aren’t listening. They didn’t even hear his voice when he was talking. The man on the other hand, he regains that shy smile which clearly means he heard Harry’s question. 

“I was actually wondering if I’ve ever introduced myself to you,” the man chuckles, reaching his hand out. 

“I’m Louis,” he says. Harry shakes the man’s hand and is about to say his own name when Louis is already a step ahead of him. 

“And you’re Harry,” Louis coats his words with a smile, letting go of Harry’s hand and leaning both of them against the counter. Harry almost felt like he held on for too long, that he made himself look like an idiot. Louis isn’t showing any signs of it though. He’s not making any weird faces or turning away. His eyes are bright and he seems open, he seems like a person everyone would like to get to know. Harry has known that since the day Louis asked him out. 

There’s something different about that man. He doesn’t seem like the others Harry has ever met. Of course Harry has always thought it’s the liqueur talking, that his drunken mind has talked to him. Made him create this man who seems like he’s been sent from heaven. Now when Harry can see Louis again, with a clear head, he can make his own impressions about Louis. And it doesn’t differ from the first thoughts Harry had. 

 

“Yes, I am,” Harry says stiffly, looking away. He had another question in his mind as well. He forgot it long ago. 

“Last night I saw that you didn’t have any snacks here so I thought I’d get you some. And maybe make you breakfast, after such a rough night?” Louis suggests, fiddling with a bag of bread. There it is, the question Harry thought he had already lost. 

“You stayed here last night?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t dare to leave you alone,” Louis smiles politely. 

“Where did you sleep?” 

Something shifts in Louis’ eyes. He doesn’t stop smiling, but his eyes start to look like glass. Like the person standing in Harry’s kitchen wouldn’t be a person at all, but a human sized doll. 

“I slept on the couch,” Louis finally answers, after what seems to be minutes when in reality it’s just seconds. Time starts to stand around Louis, which is an interesting thing to notice in Harry’s opinion. Louis turns his eyes away towards the groceries on the table. 

“Okay,” Harry says quietly, looking down at the groceries as well. He doesn’t know what else to say. Someone was here in his apartment, looking after Harry. That has never happened before. Well, it seems that the whole ‘looking after’-part was already forgotten when he was still living at home. 

“How’re you feeling?” Louis asks, a little tentatively. There it is again, the taking care-thing. Harry looks up, but misses Louis’ eyes as they shift from Harry towards the counter again. 

“Alright, thanks,” Harry tells him which makes Louis forget about the groceries on the table and look at Harry. 

“Are you really? Because you weren’t alright last night. You couldn’t even speak,” Louis emphasizes his words, clearly seeing through Harry and his act. 

“Well, I have a bit of a headache,” Harry gives in and his answer pleases Louis at least in some level. 

“Do you have any painkillers? Maybe you could take one and go back to bed?” 

“I think I can manage on my own, thanks,” Harry tells Louis. He’d want Louis to leave. He’s not used to having someone here with him. At least not in the mornings. There’s just something that makes Harry want to throw Louis out. He can feel his muscles tightening and his stomach feeling unwell again. 

 

“You look a bit green,” Louis points out with a smirk. Harry doesn’t know what to say to him before he feels something coming up again. He stands up and before he knows it, he’s rushing into the bathroom to throw up. He thought he already got everything out. Apparently that wasn’t the case. He’s hugging the toilet, his lungs giving up and salty tears streaming from his eyes again when he feels a light touch on his shoulder. Harry heaves up liquids one last time, before he flushes the toilet and settles opposite it to lean against the wall. Louis is sitting outside from the bathroom, a glass of water and a pill in his hands. 

“Take this and go back to bed. I’ll make you something to eat,” Louis offers a gentle smile. He reaches the aid towards Harry, who doesn’t know what to do with them. When Louis nudges them forward, wanting Harry to feel better, he takes them. 

Harry really wants the water to stay down so he wouldn’t have to stay on the bathroom floor all day. The water doesn’t even taste that bad, it’s almost nice. The cold water washes down the disgusting taste in his mouth and takes away some of the burning in his throat. After he’s finished the glass, he gives it back to Louis. He closes his eyes and holds his head against the wall. He doesn’t hear Louis leaving, they’re both sitting on the floor and breathing the same air. 

 

“Why did you stay?” Harry asks with a hoarse voice. Louis doesn’t answer for a while, but when he does, he speaks quietly. 

“I didn’t want to leave you alone. It just didn’t seem right to bring you here and then leave you when you were in such a bad shape.” 

Harry thinks about Louis’ words for a moment. Harry has never heard anyone say that kind of thing to him. No one has ever cared if Harry is drunk or not. They’ve always just cared about themselves and what they want, not what Harry would want. Harry has only been the one who can pleasure them and then they leave. Sometimes Harry has been sober, most of the times Harry has been drunk. When he’s drunk, he can just forget everything and be in a dream world where the other actually cares about him. But then the reality hits him. They don’t care. 

They aren’t here to hug Harry or listen to him. They don’t come here to make Harry breakfast in the morning or wake him up with sweet words, which could brighten Harry’s day. Harry just wants to forget every encounter he has made with those men, like nothing would’ve happened. But he replays everything in his mind over and over again, until the memories are a twisted knot of self-hatred. Harry just can’t comprehend that someone has been here looking after him and doesn’t have any bad intentions. 

 

“Did you really sleep on the couch?” Harry is still holding his eyes shut. 

“Yeah, we don’t know each other well enough to be sleeping in the same bed. And c’mon, you were so drunk that you were almost sleep walking,” Louis chuckles, the sound airy and more like a statement than a mocking sound. 

“Still… Me being drunk doesn’t stop anything from happening,” Harry says before he has a chance to realise what he’s actually saying. What he’s telling to this stranger. Harry opens his eyes to see Louis staring at him with something in his eyes. It’s not pity or sadness, it’s not one of those feelings that’s trying to make Harry feel better. He doesn’t need that kind of sympathy. Harry doesn’t care what has happened, he’s accepted it. 

But the look in Louis’ eyes is something different. Louis looks more like he’s trying to decide if what Harry said was a good or a bad thing. He’s leaning towards the bad, but there’s also something else. Wonder, maybe? Confusion? No, it’s something else. 

“So you’re saying that even though you were drunk last… So drunk that you couldn’t keep your eyes open… If I would’ve initiated something with you, you would’ve just taken it. You’d be alright with it?” Louis questions, that unknown emotion in his eyes getting stronger. 

“It wouldn’t have been right… but it has happened before so…” 

“So you’re saying that it’s alright?” 

“I…” The emotion in Louis’ eyes... Clear anger. 

“You can’t let anyone do that to you, Harry! Can’t you understand that?” Louis throws his hands in the air and flaming rage makes Harry shut his mouth. He’s staring at Louis and wondering if it’s alright to move. Or will Louis cut his legs off if Harry will move even an inch. 

“I’ve brought those people here with me,” Harry tries to defend himself, but he understands how weak his argument is even before he says it out loud. Louis only stares at him, his chest heaving erratically up and down. It seems that his hair has stood up; somehow it looks a lot fluffier. 

“Even you know that it’s wrong,” Louis only says before he’s on his feet and walking away. Hearing it from someone else makes Harry’s skin crawl. He has let something like that happen and he’s only shrugged like it’s nothing. He’s even met with the men later, saying what a great time he had with them. Something’s wrong with Harry. He scrambles up from the floor and takes slow steps back into the kitchen. Louis’ putting the groceries to their rightful places, calmly doing his job. 

“I… don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Harry says, staring into the emptiness. Louis turns around, his eyes much calmer. Though, he does know what is wrong with him. He just doesn’t want to talk about his fear of being alone or hated to Louis. He doesn’t want to say “I don’t know how to love” out loud. He doesn’t want to admit that he wants someone close and to care. He’s afraid of those things and they make him shudder. Louis is too new to Harry. He can’t know about these things, at least not yet. 

“You need to figure your life out and scotch or whiskey or whatever you drink isn’t the answer. I guess you know that,” Louis says, his eyes glassy. Harry doesn’t dare to say anything. He really isn’t even in the mood for talking. 

“Go to bed, sleep your hangover off,” Louis says, almost orders and Harry’s feet do what they’re told. He crawls into bed and throws his duvet over his head. He can hear Louis doing something quietly in the kitchen and the sounds make him sleepy. It’s nice to have someone here, doing normal things. He’d want to let Louis know that. But he doesn’t want to sound creepy. Knowing that there might be someone, who cares even a little bit makes Harry feel comfortable. So comfortable that he falls asleep almost immediately. 

 

\- - 

 

Harry can feel hands on his skin through his sleep. They’re everywhere. Some are choking him, some are stroking his back, some are pushing him against the bed. He feels like he can’t say anything, someone’s hand is over his mouth. Someone is holding his wrists tightly, he can’t move at all. He can hear someone talking in the distance, saying things Harry doesn’t like to hear. He feels like he’s someone else, he’s not even Harry anymore. Just some piece of meat and sharks are fighting over him. 

Harry would want to escape, but he can’t do anything. He just has to take it and accept everything. Harry tries to yell for help, he finally tries to make it stop, but he can’t open his mouth. His insides are screaming, but on the outside Harry is limp like he’d be dead. 

It’s already dark when Harry opens his eyes and realises that it was a nightmare. He still feels like he can’t breathe and that he’s being suffocated. It’s because he’s wrapped himself so tightly with his duvet. His skin burns and pushes out sweat, just because his dream seemed so real. Maybe it was real, maybe he saw memories. Harry feels disgusted, he can’t understand why he has let himself to be treated like this. Well, he does understand. He wanted it at the moment. The feeling after bothers him, though. The feeling of being alone and miserable; that’s not the feeling he’s after. No. he wants to have fun, but he doesn’t know how to.

Harry throws the duvet off himself and takes deep breaths. He keeps his eyes open, happy that it was just a very bad dream. 

Harry doesn’t know if it’s still evening or if it’s already night or maybe even the next morning. He’s let this day pass him by like he wouldn’t have even been living. He also lost today’s income, which makes his stomach feel uneasy. Today’s not a good day. 

 

Then he remembers that he wasn’t alone when he went back to sleep. The guy was here, Louis. Now it’s quiet. It doesn’t seem like he’s here anymore. Maybe he left. Maybe he understood what Harry is like. Harry is almost relieved that it turned out like this. He was expecting to be left alone once again so it’s good that it happened sooner rather than later. Even though it is good that Louis left, there’s still an odd feeling panging in Harry’s mind. Like he’s done something wrong. Maybe he did, but he doesn’t know what he did wrong. 

Shouldn’t it be good to be honest with people? Maybe Harry was too honest, maybe he shouldn’t have told Louis about his… nightly visitors. Louis should’ve expected something like this. That Harry wasn’t all that good and collected. That he has his past and his present and that his life isn’t as good as some might think. 

The sad feeling in Harry’s mind turns to annoyance. He doesn’t need to explain himself to some stranger whose name he has known only for hours. He doesn’t need to explain his actions or what he does with his free time. Or with his time at all. Harry is living his life as he likes to live it. Others can do whatever they like to do with their time, why should they judge Harry? He is a grown man! If he wants, he can drink and invite people over and let them do their business. 

Who is he fooling? He feels miserable. Even without the over the top explanations of his actions, he doesn’t feel good. Harry knows that he needs to get his life sorted, that he needs something in his life. But how will he do any of it when he feels like a mess. He doesn’t know how to approach anything. He just needs… something. 

 

Harry stretches his arms over his head and his legs against the mattress. His head doesn’t feel so heavy anymore and his stomach isn’t so queasy. He even feels hunger which is a good sign. Another hangover defeated, now Harry can go on with his life. 

He moves slowly because he doesn’t want to risk it. He doesn’t want to start feeling nauseous again so he’ll be careful for a while. Harry sits up and stretches his sides slowly. He looks around the apartment and notices that the kitchen light is on. He stands up and starts his way towards the kitchen, but his toes hit something on the floor. He looks down and under his toes is his phone. He hadn’t even seen it earlier, was it even there? He picks it up and turns it on. 9 pm, it says. Harry’s stomach growls with hunger which makes Harry smile. It’s always a good sign to be hungry, it tells Harry he’s still alive. He throws his phone on the bed and makes his way into the kitchen. 

 

“I thought I heard some sounds,” Louis says when Harry comes into view. Harry stops right then and there, taken a back that Louis actually is still there. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, standing upright from leaning to the counter. Harry doesn’t know what he was doing, but Louis sets down a tea box. Maybe he was reading the texts on it. 

“Better,” Harry says, taking a tentative step forward. 

“I thought I’d make you some dinner? Or are you hungry?” Louis is looking Harry straight in the eyes, warmth in his. 

“Yes, but you don’t have to make me anything. I don’t really even understand why you’re still here. I’m good alone,” Harry feels his forehead scrunching, his brows pulling together. He really doesn’t understand. 

“I thought it’d be nice for you to have someone here, maybe keep you company. And I wanted to apologise for saying something to you yesterday and today, when I judged you and your life choices. I guess you could call it that. But if you want me to go, then I’ll go?” 

Louis is giving Harry the chance to decide. This is new. Usually people either leave or stay without telling Harry. And mostly people always leave so this is certainly something Harry hasn’t experienced in a long time. 

“I think you should go, I feel like being alone,” Harry says, turning his eyes away from the man in front of him. 

“Okay,” Louis nods and goes straight to the door. He puts on his shoes and jacket and then turns towards Harry. 

“Take care of yourself,” Louis says, tilting his head a bit. 

“Okay,” Harry watches Louis, who almost seems sad. 

“It was nice meeting you, Harry, again,” Louis sighs before he turns towards the door and leaves. He closes it quietly after himself. Harry can’t even hear his footsteps in the corridor. It’s like Louis was never even there. Suddenly Harry feels very alone. Too alone. 

He weighs his options. Either he’s going to stay alone and feel like shit like he usually does or then…

 

Harry doesn’t even remember the last time he ran out from his door so fast. He doesn’t have any shoes or socks on, the cold stone steps feel like ice under his feet. He can still hear Louis and how he’s getting towards the door. Harry feels like he’s going to spit his lungs out from his body any second, he feels nauseous, his head is throbbing like someone would be hammering inside his skull. He can already see Louis’ hand that’s running against the railing. He’s holding onto it lightly, barely even touching. Harry is trying to keep himself standing by gripping the railing with all his strength. 

Louis’ steps are getting slower, Harry can hear it through the slapping of his feet against the steps. When he reaches the last flight of stairs, Louis is already standing there, watching Harry with wide eyes, waiting. 

“Louis,” Harry breathes out, stopping on his track. He leans onto his knees and breathes for a moment before he looks up and sees Louis’ expectant eyes. 

“Harry?” Louis walks up a few steps. 

“I ummm… I was thinking if you’d like to stay… Even though I already said that I’d want to be alone… But if you’d still like to come back?” Harry stammers, not knowing at all what Louis will answer. What if he doesn’t want to come back? Harry feels like an idiot standing there, waiting like some desperate man trying to get laid. That’s not the case though, he hopes Louis knows that. 

Louis watches Harry who is still breathing heavily. He has a twinkle in the corner of his eye, a small smile on his lips. He walks the last steps up to meet Harry and pats him on the shoulder accompanying it with a light chuckle. 

“I’ll come back, but in one condition,” Louis raises his brows, demanding Harry to look him in the eyes. 

“I’ll make us dinner, you need to rest,” Louis smiles, starting his way back upstairs. Harry looks after him. He can feel a smile on his face, a very tired smile, but still a smile. He catches up to Louis with blood pumping in his thighs. 

“I never thought of anything else,” Harry says quietly, warmth spreading all over his body. 

“You know, I can’t brag with my cooking skills, but I guess I can come up with something simple,” Harry can see Louis’ eyes on him from the corner of his eye. Harry chuckles and lets Louis inside first. He watches how Louis takes off his shoes and jacket and puts them like he had never left. Louis’ shoes are next to Harry’s brown boots and his jacket is next to Harry’s blue sweater. It looks normal having his pieces of clothing there. 

 

“Okay, well… I don’t know what you had bought me earlier so maybe we can make something of them?” Harry suggests, moving away from the door after closing it. He feels almost awkward now, ashamed of how he first told Louis to leave, then ran after Louis like he couldn’t live without him. 

Suddenly he remembers his bare feet and how cold his toes feel. He doesn’t know what he should do with them, wash them or put on some socks. He stands frozen in front of the fridge, staring at his toes and battling with the options, Louis waiting for something to happen. He watches Harry with amusement in his eyes, wondering if Harry is thinking about something very crucial or trivial. Or if he should ask what’s going on. 

“Can you start something, while I go and wash my feet?” Harry’s head snaps back up and he looks at Louis with wide eyes. Louis only nods while Harry tip toes into the bathroom. He hears how Louis opens the fridge door and takes something out. He sets something on the counter and then closes the fridge door again. 

Harry washes his feet quickly, watching how the dark water runs down into the drain. It reminds him of the time when he once ran after his sister one summer. It was raining and they thought it’d be fun to chase each other outside. Harry jumped in puddles and his legs were covered with mud. Marie knew their mum was going to be mad at them for going outside when they would bring so much dirt inside the house. So she washed Harry’s feet behind their home with a hose. Marie asked Harry to be quiet even though the water and Marie’s hands tickled Harry’s toes. She managed to wash Harry’s feet and their mum knew nothing about their adventures. 

 

“Harry? You like olives?” Louis’ voice comes echoing into the bathroom, waking Harry from his thoughts. He had forgotten that he’s not alone and that he was supposed to go help Louis. 

Harry turns off the shower and dries his feet. He tries to shake the image of Marie from his mind, but doesn’t exactly manage. Her eyes creep into his thoughts through memories even though he’s trying desperately to push them away. But apparently that’s not going to happen this evening. 

 

Before he steps out of the bathroom, he closes his eyes. Marie is there, smiling, saying something, but Harry can only see her lips moving. Her expression changes from happy to sad and she turns away from him. She leaves, clearly disappointed that he couldn’t hear her. Now she’s gone, which almost makes Harry happy. Sometimes he wishes her to be here so much. But some other times he wishes she could just leave him alone. That the memory of her would just disappear and never come back. 

He takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out through his mouth. He feels the walls building around him, making him reserved and cautious. He is almost amazed how well he can feel the protective walls around himself. How closed up he can make himself around others. He doesn’t want to tell them about himself, he never wants them to know anything personal. And Louis is no exception. He doesn’t want to share anything else with that man. 

There’s something strange about Louis. As soon as Harry steps out from the bathroom and sees Louis making them dinner, he can feel the walls start to crumble. He can feel how small pieces start to fall to his feet the closer he gets to Louis. He can hear the cracks that make him vulnerable around Louis and Harry hates that feeling. He doesn’t want to feel that way, like he doesn’t have the power to keep his memories to himself, the hurtful things that he has gone through. Harry walks closer and the previously thick and hard walls are now thin and cracked, like egg shells. 

Then Louis turns around. He has a plate in his hands, stacked with sandwiches. He raises his eyes to meet Harry’s, a smile on his face and the warmth, the caring feeling he spreads around himself, disarms Harry completely. He’d want to burst into tears; the feeling is too overwhelming. He feels like he’s naked in front of this stranger; the man he has known for a couple of days in total. And he still doesn’t know anything about Louis. It seems that Louis’ walls around himself are even thicker than Harry’s ever was. He seems like a person, who’s not going to let anyone come close to him without his permission. 

 

Harry wipes his mind clean and smiles back to Louis. He walks closer and looks at the sandwiches, which look very appetising. 

“You didn’t answer if you like olives or not, so I didn’t put them,” Louis lifts one of the sandwiches off the plate and shows that there’s no olives between the pieces of bread. 

“Sorry, I got a bit distracted. I do like olives though,” Harry needs to clear his throat while he speaks. His voice is thick like he would’ve just cried. 

“Are you still feeling sick?” 

“Just a bit weak, that’s all,” Harry nods his head slowly, feeling the hunger rumbling in his stomach. 

“So where are we going to sit?” Louis asks, picking up the plate again. 

“In the living room. And I don’t have any spare chairs so we have to eat on the floor, if that’s alright?” 

“Sure, floor is good,” Louis chuckles, following Harry into the living room. Harry sits down next to the coffee table, and all the papers, and makes himself comfortable while sitting cross legged. Louis sits in front of him, placing the plate between them. Harry takes a sandwich into his hands and takes a bite, carefully chewing it. Louis eats slowly, watching Harry eat much faster than him. He already takes his second sandwich when Louis hasn’t even eaten half of his first one. And the more Harry eats, the faster he eats. He seems like an animal who hasn’t been fed in a long time. Like these plain sandwiches would be a Michelin star dinner. 

 

“I actually wanted to say something,” Louis’ brows pull together. He’s looking down at the sandwich in his hands. Suddenly he’s nervous in front of Harry, his presence makes it hard for Louis to come clean, let alone apologise for something. He takes a breath in and dares to look up. Harry’s expectant eyes are confused. He’s still stuffing his mouth with the sandwich Louis made for them. It’s his third one already. 

“I… Like I said I want to apologise for yesterday and what I said. About your dreams and you know, career road. I understand that it was hurtful of me to judge you when I don’t know anything about you or your life. So, I’m sorry.” 

Harry’s chewing slows down before he swallows and listens to Louis intently. Almost like he wouldn’t be able to focus on Louis enough if he’d eat at the same time. He doesn’t know what to say for a long time. He only stares at Louis, while Louis is watching him under his lashes. 

“Ummm,” Harry breathes out, as if he would’ve held his breath for a few minutes. 

“Thank you,” he finishes. He’s sure he should say something else too, but he’s not sure what he should say. So he doesn’t say anything. He stays quiet and his eyes drift from Louis to the sandwich in his hands. 

“Thanks for forgiving me,” Louis then says, making Harry look back to him. He nods and Louis mimics his motions. They continue eating in silence, but now it’s filled with awkwardness. They both feel like they should say something. But nothing comes out of their mouths. Nothing happens. No one says a word. 

 

“This is quite the dinner,” Harry says after a moment, looking up to see Louis’ reaction. Louis smiles down at his sandwich, a small chuckling sound bubbling from him. Harry smiles too, taking his fourth sandwich from the plate. 

 

“You know, I feel like I should apologise for earlier too. It’s not my business how you’ve lived your life, it’s your choice how you spend your time and who do you spend it with. You live your life like you want to live it and it’s not my job to tell you what you can and can’t do regarding your… Company. So sorry for that too.” 

Harry feels his heart beat picking up. Somehow he knew that this was going to be brought back to the table. Louis seems like a person who wants to be honest. He was angry and he can’t just let it go. He has to talk about it. 

“But I still think that you should be careful so you won’t get hurt, that’s my only worry,” Louis faces Harry bravely, with eyes that almost spell his words out for Harry. He means it. He really wants Harry to take care of himself. 

“I appreciate it but I’m an adult, I don’t need others to take care of me,” Harry’s words almost get stuck in his throat. He knows that he wants someone to take care of him, at least sometimes. Ask him how he’s doing, maybe be there for him when he’s going through some rough times. But he’s so used to pushing people away that he can’t control the urge to tell people to back off. Leave him alone. To not care about him. 

Louis doesn’t say anything to him. He’s waiting for something, his head tilted, his eyes open and waiting. He’s hoping Harry would say something. But when that doesn’t happen, he lets it go. His eyes drift away and his shoulders slump down. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis lifts his eyes back to Harry, a hard contrast to them. Like the blue would pierce through Harry. Bound him to a chair and make him tell Louis everything. 

“I won’t promise I’ll answer,” Harry knows what the question will be about. Louis snorts at his words, but continues. 

“Every time you met someone… Can you remember it? Did they hurt you? Did they do something… that you didn’t want?” Louis hesitates with his words. He knows that the subject is touchy for Harry. He’s almost sure Harry’s not going to answer him because it takes him a while to even open his mouth. Even though it’s just a breath through his lips, Louis knows that he’s thinking about it; what he’s going to say. 

“Usually, when I’ve gone out, I’ve done it just for a couple of reasons. To get completely wasted and to find some company. For some reason I’ve never been able to meet anyone without a drink in my hand. And the people who I’ve met in that bar… They all have something in common with me. They all just want a drink and some company.” Harry takes a breather and glances at Louis through his lashes. Louis’ eyes aren’t that hard anymore. They’re giving Harry enough space so he can continue comfortably. 

“I’ve never wanted to be in a relationship. Of course I’ve had some long term things but nothing has made me feel anything. I’ve always been pretty sure that I can’t even answer their feelings. If I could feel anything deeper than caring about someone. You know, if I could… Love… someone. The other has only been there, by my side and then they haven’t been. Simple as that.”

“So I drink and then I fill the void of wanting someone to be with me. They’ve all been nameless faces who talk a lot about things that I don’t understand or then they’ve only been some pointless shags.” Harry shakes his head and he’d almost want to stop. Shut his mouth and never speak again. For some reason though, this doesn’t feel that wrong. Sharing what’s on his mind almost every day doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. Still, Harry can’t look Louis in the eye. He can’t believe he just told Louis that. Maybe it’s not a bad thing? 

“I always remember when I bring the guys to my place or go to theirs. But the thing is that I never remember that I’m with them. I can hear them talking and I can feel them touching me. But I can never see them. It’s almost like I close my eyes and let things happen. I actually think that I do keep my eyes closed for most of the time. It’s something that I don’t want to see, that whole part of my life is… dark. And I don’t want to relive it through memories. So I shut it out by shutting my eyes.” 

“Sometimes I’m just too tired to even care what’s happening. Sometimes I just wake in the middle of things and I close my eyes tighter. I don’t like that part of my life, I don’t like that I can’t face the people or stay away. I still do it. Even though it has hurt me in many ways, I still do it.” Harry feels like something’s crawling inside of him. Trying to get through his skin, break through, make him thrash around and just go crazy. His skin itches with the feeling, with the uneasiness. This is the part he doesn’t want to think about. How his life has never been so nice that he could feel like he could be cared about. Or that someone could love him. Or that he wouldn’t need that drink every night when he wants to be with someone. That he could actually meet someone who could be good for him. 

“The feeling, that someone is there, even though it wouldn’t be pretty or even remotely soft, is enough. It’s almost like I’m proving myself that I’m still alive. That I’m feeling what I’m feeling, because I can. Because I’m a breathing and living person. I need it. If I feel something, would it be pain or pleasure, then I know that I’m still here. That I haven’t given up.” Harry breaths the words out. He almost wishes Louis wouldn’t hear them. But he knows that Louis does hear every single word that comes out of his mouth. 

“I know that this is a weak explanation or whatever you like to call it. That I’m just some sort of a masochist who can’t deal with life. I just haven’t seen the other side of things. I’ve never felt any emotion. No one has ever showed me what some other life could be like. I just go on with my life and I wish I can stop at some point. I just don’t know when that point will be. A point where I could feel something else other than filling up my brain with something that isn’t real. Just emotions that are fleeting, like clouds in the sky. I wish that someday I could feel like I don’t deserve to be… broken.” Harry raises his gaze to meet Louis’. His blue eyes are wide, absorbing every little detail Harry is giving him. He doesn’t say anything, only let’s Harry understand every word he’s saying. That he thinks that he needs to be broken. That he already is quite broken. 

There might be hints of hope left. But he’s pretty much in pieces already. Like he’d be made out of porcelain. Very delicate and fragile porcelain and if you touch the surface, it will leave a crack. Just a light brush, and he could be ruined. 

 

Louis reaches his hand out to Harry. He touches Harry’s wrist and slowly moves his hand to place it on Harry’s skin. He holds Harry’s wrist in his hand, his middle finger over Harry’s pulse point. His heart beats faintly in his veins and becomes calmer the longer Louis holds Harry’s wrist. Finally he pulls away. His touch leaves the weirdest feeling on Harry’s skin. Like that small part, Louis’ hand print, would’ve left an infinite hand print on Harry’s skin. Like that part would be stronger now. More than just porcelain. 

Harry can’t eat anymore. He stares at his wrist, where Louis’ hand rested. Harry’s sure there’s something on his skin, that if he’d show his wrist under some bright light, he’d see something. He doesn’t know what it’d be exactly, but there’s something odd going on. 

 

“I also wanted to ask you about these papers? What are they?” Louis takes the focus out of Harry’s not so sparkly present life. Harry is extremely thankful that Louis saw how uncomfortable he was getting. He wants to talk about something else if they have to talk. 

“They are some song lyrics I’ve written. Poems mainly,” Harry looks at the many small piles of papers, scattered across the table and floor. 

“You wrote all of those?” 

“Yeah,” Harry looks at Louis from the corner of his eye. 

“I actually have a confession to make. Last night, when you were already sleeping, I accidentally might’ve read a couple of them. I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” Louis bites his teeth together and breaths though them. He scrunches his brows together making him look very sad and his eyes are big and the blue in them is innocently bright. Harry doesn’t know what to think. If he should be angry or disappointed or happy. At least Louis didn’t dig those papers out from some hiding place. Harry had left them like this, for anyone to read. Either way those poems, those lyrics, are something that aren’t finished. He’s not sure if he likes that Louis read them. They’re so personal that he doesn’t know if he wants anyone to read them, ever. 

 

“What did you think of them?” Harry surprises even himself by asking it. 

“Very beautiful. Melancholic, but beautiful.” Harry thinks about Louis’ verdict for a moment. 

“I actually use those poems for song lyrics. I might not use them all, but some… They’re just things that I write.” 

“You shouldn’t put yourself down like that. You write very beautifully and they apparently mean very much to you. You should value that more,” Louis leans forward and almost reaches his hand out once again. But then he pulls it back and tucks his hands tightly under his thighs. Harry thinks it’s better that Louis doesn’t touch him. His skin is still prickling with the last contact. 

“What are your songs about?” Louis asks casually, his voice tight. 

“People, just everyone I see around me. I just see them and I’m the outsider and they have their lives and their dreams and they’re pursuing them and I’m just observing, sitting still and seeing people pass me by. I’m alone and I want to understand those people, what they see in life, why they see life so differently from me.” 

Louis isn’t sure what he should say. Harry’s not facing him, he’s looking at his hands. It seems that Harry hasn’t been this open to a lot of people. He’s trying to shelter himself, protect these things that are difficult for him. And here Louis is, asking questions, forcing Harry to answer and make him uncomfortable in his own home. 

“You know, if you don’t want to answer me, don’t. It’s fine if you don’t. I can see that it’s not easy for you so if this bothers you, just say the word,” Louis offers. He wants to get to know Harry better. But he doesn’t want to make him feel cornered or like he’s obliged to answer Louis and his almost interrogation. 

“I’m just not used to telling people about these things,” Harry’s eyes shoot up to meet Louis’ sight. 

“Well then you don’t have to answer, it’s fine.” 

“I want to,” Harry blinks, like it dawns on him. He wants to answer these questions; he wants someone to be close, but he’s not used to it. That’s why it’s so hard for him to tell things about himself. He’s just not used to having people close; people who know more than just Harry’s name and the way he kisses. 

 

Louis searches for some confirmation from Harry’s eyes. Those deep green, wide eyes, which are filled with innocence. Like this dim lighting and the place they are sitting in would’ve wrecked all the walls around Harry. When Louis looks into Harry’s eyes, he can almost see into his soul. As if it could be possible. But now, when his mum always used to say, and still says, after everything, “the eyes are the window to your soul”, makes sense. Louis is certain he can see someone else in front of him.

It’s not the same Harry, who just ate five sandwiches and didn’t speak a word. It’s not the Harry, who washed his feet, because he didn’t like them dirty. It’s not the Harry, who sleeps with people and lets them take advantage of him. No. This is someone who’s screaming for something inside. He wants something that he doesn’t want to admit. He says that he’s not sure if he can ever feel great emotions. He says that no one cares, that he’s alone. 

But his eyes are saying that he wants all of it. That someone cares, that he wouldn’t be alone. That he wants to feel something other than some fleeting emotion of pleasure. He’s just not sure how he’s going to do it all. How he’s ever going to be capable of changing it so he could believe. Louis sees despair and he sees sorrow and he sees something lighter. A part of Harry must know there’s something out there. Hope. Hope for someone like him, a person who doesn’t know who to be or where to go with his life. 

Louis clears his throat, turning his eyes away. He doesn’t like to leave Harry thinking that he’s going to be let down. But he can’t look into his eyes anymore, not after what he has seen. Louis settles with looking at his hands, picking at his cuticles. 

 

“Are the poems about the girl from those polaroid pictures?” Louis hears himself asking. This could go terribly wrong. What if that girl is someone, who has hurt Harry? Yet again, Harry wouldn’t keep photos of her on his wall, would he? Harry doesn’t answer right away and when Louis glances at Harry, he’s looking towards his alcove. At the pictures on his wall. 

“Yeah,” he manages to rasp out. He clears his throat, but still doesn’t look Louis’ way. 

“Who is she? Are you close?” 

“Marie,” Harry says and has to clear his throat again. 

“She’s Marie. She’s my sister,” slowly Harry turns his attention towards Louis, who is not going to push Harry to talk more if he doesn’t want. 

“She umm… We were close, but she ran away from home when we were both still living there. She was already 18 so I don’t know if you can call it running away really, but she left one night and never came back. I haven’t heard from her in a while now, she sometimes calls or sends a card. She rarely comes to visit. And when she does, she doesn’t stay for long. Just a day or two. It definitely isn’t the same anymore, when we were younger. I don’t really know her anymore.”

 

Louis can tell Harry doesn’t like talking about her too much. That he’s getting upset. Whether it’s about her or just talking about her, his shoulders get tense and his face changes from soft and relaxed to hard lines and sharp edges. Something must’ve happened that Harry doesn’t want Louis to know. Or at least isn’t ready to tell Louis yet. Harry seems like he’s closing himself in with his walls again, he becomes distant in a way that makes the room turn colder. He braces himself with his arms; he protects himself from a memory that he doesn’t want to let out. 

“She’s just someone who brings up a lot of things that I don’t want to remember,” Harry says and tries to smile weakly. Even the effort to make that movement with his lips seems painful. 

“We don’t have to talk about her,” Louis’ soft voice is like a pillow where Harry’s head sinks. He nods and looks back towards the polaroids over his bed.

 

“Do you have more pictures like that? You know, those artsy type of photos?” Louis tries to lighten the mood. It has been too grim for the past few minutes. Harry turns towards Louis and then reaches under the coffee table. There’s an old shoe box which he drags closer. He opens it and there lays tons more pictures. Some are a bit faded and look like they’ve been taken out from that box a few times. Some look like they haven’t been touched at all. 

Louis picks up a few and all of them are from a time when Harry and Marie went ice skating. Harry takes a few pictures in his hands as well and smiles down at them. 

“I was nine when these were taken,” Harry smiles at a picture, where he’s sitting on the ice with his legs spread out. He’s smiling up towards the sky, his mouth in such a wide smile that his eyes have scrunched shut. He’s wearing a green winter jacket and black thick pants. He has a brown woolly hat over his wild curls, which are peeking underneath. 

“Marie always took me ice skating. Every winter I looked forward to it because she took me to the ice skating rink every year. She taught me tricks and pirouettes and we used to play something on the ice. She usually had prepared us some snacks as well. Hot chocolate and such.” Louis smiles at the memory and takes new pictures into his hands. Harry and Marie are smiling cheek to cheek, the same features on their faces. 

Harry puts the pictures back into the box, twisting his fingers together. Louis feels a little awkward still going through the photos alone, as if he’d be invading Harry’s past. He puts the pictures from his hands into the box with the others and closes it. He covers it with the papers from the floor, which just remind Louis what the poems and lyrics are all about. Everything around them reminds Louis of Harry’s sister even though he has never met her. 

But even the knowledge of her, the things that Harry has told him, make it hard for Louis to breathe. He’s taking it way too personally; Harry and Marie’s family issues. Louis finds himself curious of what has happened to Harry, what drove Marie away from their home. Why Harry closes himself from people who are trying to care about him. But he doesn’t want to be nosey or make Harry feel like he has to tell Louis things, which he’s not comfortable telling. Something just lays deep inside Harry’s mind, thoughts that make him so vulnerable and strong at the same time. 

 

“What’s your music like?” Louis wants to take Harry’s mind off of his family. Harry’s eyes snap up to meet Louis’ and they are filled with excited glint. 

“Acoustic. I don’t have a band, just myself,” Harry explains and he’s clearly more confident to talk about this side of his life.

“Could I hear some songs from you?” Louis asks, ready to whine if that is what it takes for Harry to play some of his own songs for Louis. 

“I’m not sure…” 

“Oh come on, you have a demo that you play to some record company executives. Why can’t you let me hear something?” The whining mode is definitely getting on. Harry side eyes Louis with a smirk on his lips and slowly stands up. He takes out his laptop and opens it, offering headphones to Louis. He takes them and puts them on, while Harry presses play. Harry feels his skin rise with goose bumps while he waits for Louis’ opinion. Louis nods his head to the music, staring at the floor and spacing out. Harry feels like Louis wouldn’t even be there anymore; like he would’ve disappeared and there’d only be a shell left. 

 

“So what do you think?” Harry asks gently. He doesn’t want to disturb Louis, but he’s too anxious to wait for some words to come out of Louis’ mouth. Louis smiles and takes the headphones off, coming back to reality. 

“Very nice, though the quality isn’t the best,” his face comes concerned. 

“Yeah, I had to record it on my phone and it doesn’t work very well like that.” 

“What if I’d help you with your demo?” Louis’ brows shoot up. 

“How would you help me?” 

“With the recording, maybe it could help with those meetings too?”

“That could be true.” 

“And I have to admit that you need some upbeat songs too. We can make them upbeat together, even though the lyrics are a bit heavy.” Louis looks like he’s deep in thought, already thinking about the demo and how they could improve it. 

“We can make the songs catchier, if that’s alright with you?” Louis’ eyes focus on Harry again and he’s clearly enthused about this project. Harry thinks about his proposition for a moment. He’s saying the same thing as some of the people who Harry has played his demo to. He needs something upbeat. That his demo is bland when it’s just him with a guitar. Even though he’s talented, he needs some spark. 

 

“Okay, let’s do it,” Harry says after a moment of thinking. 

“You serious?” Louis looks expectant and his face turns slowly from anxious to happy. When Harry finally gives in, he looks like Harry has given him the surprise of his life. 

“Yeah, maybe you can bring some fresh point of view to it all,” Harry smiles. 

“Excellent!” Louis smiles and puts the headphones back on. He signs Harry to put the music back on and when the music is streaming into Louis’ ears again, he starts popping his head to the rhythm and getting distant again. 

 

Harry stands up and takes their sandwich plate into the kitchen. He puts the leftovers into the fridge, happy that he now has something for breakfast too. He washes the plate and enjoys the silence. Even though he knows that he’s not alone, it’s still nice when it’s quiet and he can almost be his true self. It definitely wasn’t a mistake to run after Louis so desperately to get him spend the evening with Harry. 

He comes back into the living room and stops to stand by the doorway. Louis is nodding his head and swaying to the music, mouthing some of the words he has already picked up. The vision makes Harry smile. Who is this person? He has no idea. How did he suddenly find his way into Harry’s life? He doesn’t know. But Harry hasn’t been this comfortable around anyone in such a long time, if ever. He doesn’t know what kind of a ride he’s in for, but it could turn out to be something good. 

Maybe Louis could be his friend; that’s what he’s hoping for. Harry’s almost excited to see what’s going to happen with Louis, what kind of adventure he’s getting himself into with Louis. He seems like a person who could end up anywhere just because he’s so open to options and people. He’s not going to turn his back to things, he’s facing them as they are and he’s trying to understand the world around him. Just like Harry. 

Harry knows that he’s enjoying Louis’ company and he’s almost proud of himself for opening up about something in his life. Not only about what’s his favourite drink or where he lives, but about something real. Things that are on his mind all the time and has made him evaluate life in general. Everything’s still confusing and nothing is certain, but at least tonight, when he got to say something out loud, he understood those things. Almost like he would’ve let go of them. He feels almost a little lighter after letting some things from his chest. 

But at the same time Harry is extremely nervous if sharing those personal things with Louis was a smart idea. If it was worth it. If Harry will only be let down after things cool down; after this “caring” isn’t on the top of Louis’ list anymore and he grows bored with Harry. What if it was all pointless and at some point Harry only has to face another disappointment, like he has had to face before. 

It just feels odd; how Louis walked into Harry’s life. He never wanted anything from Harry which is completely new for Harry. And to top it off, it seems that Louis wants to be Harry’s friend. Harry has never had real friends, just some mates who drifted in and out of his life when it was convenient for them. But now, Louis came in and is trying to create a bond with Harry. And yet, Harry knows nothing about Louis. At least now he knows Louis’ name, but what else does he know. His memory is blurred from last night so he can’t even remember what they talked about during their date. Louis is just a mystery who once again walked into Harry’s life. Hopefully he won’t leave without saying a word. Because Harry’s sure he’s going to leave at some point. He doesn’t know when that point will come. But he knows that day is coming.

 

Harry sits on the living room couch and watches on as Louis is still nodding his head to the music. Then he opens his eyes and takes the headphones off, searching for Harry with his gaze. When he finds Harry, he smiles instantly. 

“I had an idea about the song where you sing about the person and the cigarette smoke,”

“Yeah, blue smoke?”

“Nice name, I like it,” Louis smiles and blinks for a few times clearing his mind. 

“Take out your guitar and let’s start working.” 

“Now? Isn’t it late?” Harry looks out the window, darkness meeting him. 

“Early or late, it shouldn’t affect any artist,” Louis shrugs and smiles lopsidedly. Harry chuckles, gets out his guitar and listens what Louis has come up with. 

 

\- a month after -

 

“You know what you’re going to say?” Louis asks, standing in front of Harry, who somehow appears to be the same height as him. Even though Louis is clearly shorter than Harry (he wouldn’t want to admit it), now Harry seems to be smaller than ever. His nervous eyes are trying to search for a way out; he’s desperately trying to make his nerves calm down. But he can’t. He can’t even speak. So he only nods at Louis. 

“I need you to say it out loud, Harry. You know what you’re going to say, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I do,” Harry swallows thickly and then his eyes turn to look at the huge white building on the other side of the road. A deep crinkle forms on his forehead, which Louis doesn’t want to see. He has never seen Harry so nervous, it’s not typical for him. Usually he’s confident with his music, he knows that he can make it. Now even Louis’ not sure if he can make it. 

“Harry, look at me,” he says and puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders. 

“You have an amazing demo and you know what you’re going to say to them. You have their full attention, even though it’s only for a short time. Still, they’re going to focus only on you and your music. Keep your head held high and believe you can do it, because I do,” Louis gives Harry a pep talk which he has never held to anyone before. He was always the one who people encouraged, but not the other way around. Louis doesn’t know when tables turned but he’s definitely enjoying his position. He likes to be the one who can at least once tell someone they can do it. That they just need a little push and then the world will be theirs. 

“Now, you go there and convince them.” 

Harry breaths one quick breath out through his mouth and straightens his back. He’s taller than Louis again, which takes the glamour out of his moment. Harry leaves, his feet running across the street and up into the record labels main office building. Louis stays to wait outside, he promised Harry. 

 

It’s not long until Harry walks out of the building with a tight jaw and red cheeks. His stride is strong and quick. He wants to get away from that building as quickly as possible. 

“How did it go?” Louis asks as soon as Harry’s close enough. 

“They think I’m not ready yet, that I should come back after a couple of years of practice and public performances.” Harry stops on the pavement and stares at nothing, away from Louis’ sympathetic look. He just wants to forget it ever happened. He’s watching the people who walk past them; they’re deep in their own little worlds and lives. Harry feels like such an outsider once again; he’s the one who watches others, but they will never notice him. They will never even know that he existed. 

“Did you tell them about your experience?” 

“Of course I did, I told them everything that we practiced!” Harry rages and combs his fingers through his curls. 

“Let’s calm down, okay?” Louis tries to reach his hand towards Harry and hold his shoulder. But Harry moves away. 

“Whatever, I just want to forget it and get a drink,” Harry starts to walk away, but Louis stops him by grabbing his wrist tightly. 

“I know that you’re disappointed, but you don’t need to get a drink. You need a good dinner and something else to think about,” Louis pulls Harry back, but Harry yanks his wrist free. 

“Yes, I need something else to think about and a drink will do that.” Harry starts to walk away again. This time Louis stops him by running before him and stops right in front of Harry. He almost crashes to Louis, but Louis only places his hands on Harry’s shoulders. 

“Drinking won’t help you. You’ll feel just as bad as before that drink, trust me. Let me take you home and make you dinner. We’ll figure it out, I promise,” Louis convinces Harry. His eyes turn warmer and his jaw loses the hard line. 

“You better make me a hell of a dinner,” Harry says after a moment of thinking, making Louis smile. 

“That I’ll make,” Louis chuckles and starts leading Harry towards his home. 

 

In the end Harry is happy that he didn’t go to the bar. That Louis made him turn around and come home. Even though he’s extremely disappointed and angry at himself, Louis can take his mind off it. His cooking skills aren’t the best and Harry has to jump in quite a few times when Louis is trying to make the simplest of meals; eggs on toast. 

The meal in its entirety makes Harry smile; how Louis says that it’s the most amazing eggs on toast he probably has had in his whole life. And Harry has to agree. But he can’t just admit it, he has to make fun of the choice of dinner and how Louis promised a piece of art and the moon from the sky to Harry while he was cooking. 

 

It might not be the moon or a work by Picasso. Still Harry feels good. Being around Louis makes him feel good. He has felt different for the past month and it might be this. Louis. He makes Harry smile and he takes Harry’s mind off of the things that make him feel bad. He can tell Louis things he has always bottled up inside. Harry actually feels good and it’s much more important than some dinner. 

“Thanks for making us dinner,” Harry says after they’ve eaten. He can’t look Louis in the eye, because for some reason his thank you means something more too. 

“No problem, I was getting hungry too,” Louis chuckles and stands up, taking his and Harry’s plates to wash them. They’re sitting next to the coffee table, on the floor. It has become their place. 

“No, I really mean it,” Harry says with more effort, and this time Louis takes the hint. Harry’s not only talking about the dinner. 

“Today was just a practice round,” Louis stacks the plates in his hands and looks down at them. 

“I’m sure you’re going to go to some other company and you’re going to charm them with your personality and music. You just have to be more patient and confident. It’s going to happen, I know it.” Louis finally looks Harry in the eye. He smiles softly before turning around and going into the kitchen. Harry can hear how he washes the dishes he made while cooking. 

Harry thinks about Louis’ words for a moment. How is he going to charm the record company people? That is a mystery to him. But it feels good to know that there’s someone who actually believes in him. Harry smiles to himself and picks up his guitar, playing some chords he has had in his mind for a few days. The sounds from the kitchen never stop, but Harry knows that Louis is listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 5
> 
> New Order / Age of Consent  
> Maps / When You Leave  
> The Neighbourhood / Baby Came Home  
> Library Tapes / View from a train 1  
> Library Tapes / View from a train 2  
> Library Tapes / View from a train 3  
> Library Tapes / First day of winter  
> Portico Quartet / Window Seat  
> Chad Lawson / I Wish I Knew

“Go, go, go! Or you’re going to be late!” Louis rushes Harry to run faster towards the huge building in front of them. 

“You’ll wait out here?” Harry asks out of breath, clutching his guitar case’s strap against his shoulder. 

“Always, now go!” Louis pushes Harry to run the steps into the building. Harry turns around to flash him a smile before he disappears behind the doors. Louis watches the doors close behind him, waiting to see Harry again. His breathing calms down and time passes. Harry doesn’t come outside after a ten minute meeting with the record label. Now it has taken almost an hour and there’s still no Harry. Louis starts to pace in front of the stairs of the building and waits to see Harry’s familiar face. But Harry’s not there. Why does it take so long?

Louis crosses the street and waits for Harry there. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stares at the building. He hopes Harry was relaxed and confident. He has had some practice these past couple of months. He doesn’t get so depressed anymore after getting rejected, he takes it as experience. And now he’s meeting people from a well-known record label that could give him everything. Harry was so happy to get a meeting with the label executives and he was so nervous when he understood what it meant. This is almost like an exam for him. They’re going to test if he has learnt anything and if it goes well, he could have signed papers in his hands. 

Louis’ eyes catch something in front of the building. His mum. She’s standing there with a smile on her lips before she keeps on walking along the other city residents. Louis follows Donna with his eyes for a moment before he loses her in the crowd. He hasn’t seen her as often as usual. She hasn’t popped up at Harry’s anymore, when Louis stays awake after a long night of music and talking. Louis always pretends that he sleeps on Harry’s couch when in reality he stares out the window and watches the stars. Or the streets. Or the lonely people on the street. But he never leaves. Louis has only seen his mum when they’ve gone see his dad. 

 

It’s not long until he sees another familiar face. Harry runs the stairs from the building, his guitar case swinging recklessly on his back. He has something else in his hand too. And a huge smile on his face. He runs towards Louis and he has never seen such enthusiasm in Harry’s eyes. When Harry is close enough, he waves a stack of white papers in his hand. They’ve crumbled from the edge where Harry is squeezing them. Louis’ eyes widen and when Harry crashes to him and hugs him tight, he already knows. 

“You got it!” Louis yells and laughs. His voice breaks with happiness, he can’t contain it. 

“I got it!” Harry yells and lets go of Louis. His eyes glisten and suddenly his lips are on Louis’. He’s soft and ragingly sweet at the same time and Louis doesn’t know what to do. He’s holding Harry’s hips and Harry has his hand on Louis’ neck. He’s pulling Louis closer and holding him gently, giving him room to move away if he wants to. Louis doesn’t move though. 

The signed contract is crumbled between Harry’s hand and Louis’ skin and it digs into Louis’ revealed neck. Harry moves his lips slowly and urgently at the same time and Louis doesn’t know how long it lasts. Everything somehow stops around them and is still extremely loud. Louis can hear someone in high heels walking past them. The clicking of the heels aches his ears and he’d want to scream the person to walk a little quieter. 

Harry pulls back and his eyes are wide and innocent. He knows he did something he shouldn’t have maybe done. His lips are puffy and pink and half open and it seems that he has lost all the words from his brain. He only stares at Louis and Louis is sure that he has the exact same look on his face too. They don’t say anything to each other, only pull their hands back and stand awkwardly opposite from each other. Louis doesn’t know where to look or what to say or what to do. Is he supposed to say something or do something? He wasn’t expecting a kiss from Harry and he’s sure that Harry wasn’t meant to do it either. 

“Sorry, I’m…” Harry breathes a long breath through his nose. 

“I’m just so excited that I didn’t know what I was doing,” he explains with an apologetic look in his eyes. 

“No, I understand completely. Impulses… You can’t really control them,” Louis chuckles, his voice containing a glum note. 

“Yeah,” Harry drags the word out, turning away from Louis. He stares at the company building, swallowing thickly. 

 

Suddenly he freezes. Louis can see his hands twitch from the corner of his eye and as an instinct, he reaches his hand out. But for some reason he doesn’t want to touch Harry. Someway he’s afraid to touch Harry. He also knows exactly why. Every time his skin comes to contact with Harry’s, even when it’d be an accident or just some innocent stroke of his fingers against Harry’s arm, he can feel something. He’s not sure if the feeling is pleasant or not, but now, after the kiss, he’s sure that he’s even more confused. 

He hasn’t felt anything like this before. He’s sure he didn’t feel this way even when he was alive. So he decides to avoid touching Harry again; maybe it’s a sign of something and Louis doesn’t want to find out what it could be a sign about. 

Harry’s still staring at the building or something in front of it. Louis turns his eyes presumably to something that Harry’s watching, but he can only see a bunch of people. 

“Is everything okay?” Louis asks quietly. He’s sure Harry would shush him if he talked loudly. 

“There’s Niall Horan,” Harry breathes out and it’s the first time Harry actually moves. He blinks his eyes a few times and rests his weight to his left leg. 

“Who?” 

“You don’t know who Niall Horan is?” Harry turns his shocked gaze to Louis. 

“Someone who you can only call with his first and last names?” Louis smiles apologetically, looking back towards the bunch of people on the other side of the street. A group of young people in their twenties are surrounding a guy their age. He has light coloured hair with some darker streaks. He has a wide smile on his face and he’s hugging everyone. 

“He’s my inspiration. He was a street artist too, like me, and then he was discovered. Now he’s touring around the world and he’s only getting more popular. You really don’t know him?” Harry’s eyes fixate back on Niall, who is now taking pictures with his fans. New ones appear from nowhere and the group grows with other five people. 

“Nah, I haven’t,” Louis watches the people on the other side of the street and sees how Harry would like to go there too. But his feet are glued to the ground. 

“What rock have you been living under?” Harry chuckles, glancing at Louis from the corner of his eye. 

“I just haven’t been that active with new musicians lately,” Louis tells him. He’d want to know what kind of music this Niall kid plays. If he’d like it. At the moment he can’t remember even the artists or bands he used to listen to when he was still living. 

 

“Why won’t you go and say hi to him?” Louis suggest with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t…” Harry shakes his head, his cheeks tinting pink. 

“Why couldn’t you? He’s here now! It’s your chance!” Louis almost pats Harry on the shoulder, but then retreats his hand by trying to make it seem like he was just going to stroke his fingers through his hair. 

“Well he’s under the same label as me now so… I guess it’s not my only chance,” Harry shrugs. Louis shakes his head in return and finally touches Harry’s shoulder. He gives Harry a light push forward towards the man he’s star struck by. 

“I can’t just go there!” Harry’s shocked eyes turn to Louis, but he’s not having it. Louis holds his hand on Harry’s shoulder and keeps walking them forward, closer and closer to Niall. Harry breathes heavily, clutching the strap of his guitar case tightly in his hand. His feet are trying to stop them, but his eyes look determined. 

“I can hear your heartbeat from here,” Louis leans a little closer and chuckles. Harry gives a nervous laugh and bites his teeth together. 

 

They’re half way to the other side of the road. Louis watches the group of people, who are asking for pictures and autographs from Niall. A lot more people are stopping to say hi to the musician. For some reason Louis can’t stop thinking if some day that’s going to be Harry. He’d be going on with his life, meeting friends or buying new guitar strings and suddenly he’d be surrounded with people who want to take a picture with him. Louis can feel Harry’s shoulder shaking under his palm and when he turns to look at him, Harry is taking a deep breath in. He breathes it through his mouth and drags another breath in. Before he can push it out of his lungs, Louis sees another thing. 

Someone’s in a rush. They turn on the road with their car and hit the gas pedal with force. Louis can see how the car is coming closer and the person driving it starts to brake too late. Louis can see Harry’s concentrated face from the corner of his eye, but his full focus is on the car that is coming closer and closer. Harry can’t see it though. He starts to slow his pace, he wants to take another breath before he’s in front of one of his favourite artists. Louis pushes Harry forward, but it’s not enough. The car isn’t going to stop in time. 

“Harry!” Louis yells, making Harry turn his head frantically to Louis and then towards the car. He can see it close, he could touch it if he’d take a few steps forward. That’s not what he could even take, because the car isn’t that far away anymore. Suddenly his view changes. Harry feels like he’s flying in the air. Everything turns sideways. The car drives past, still too fast, but Harry’s already hitting the side of the road, his shoulder taking the hardest hit. 

He’s not sure what just happened, but suddenly he’s on the ground, Louis’ hand tightly on his waist. His heart beats erratically in his chest. His legs feel numb. His shoulder aches against the pavement. 

 

“You okay?” Louis asks out of breath. Harry turns his head to see Louis and is greeted with red cheeks and a worried gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, thanks, you?” Harry doesn’t even know if he’s supposed to ask that from Louis.

“I’m fine, I landed on you. That’s why I’m asking you,” Louis pants, his brows creating a sad line on his forehead. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Harry blinks his eyes and moves his legs. Only his shoulder hurts. 

“You sure?” Louis is getting on his knees and up, pulling Harry up too.

“Yeah,” Harry says quietly and nods. He’s checking if he can see any injuries, but he can’t. He can hear steps coming closer and when he raises his gaze from himself, a middle aged man is approaching them with a horrified look on his face. 

“Are you two okay? I’m so very sorry! My girlfriend is giving birth and my car has been acting up lately and now the breaks don’t work properly and…” the man speaks frantically, his hands flying in the air, almost as if they’d have a life of their own. 

“We’re fine, just shaken up, that’s all,” Louis cuts the fast words that are spluttering out from the man’s mouth. 

“You sure? Because I saw how you dived and it didn’t look pain free,” the man’s eyes almost bulge out of his head.

“I guess he hurt his shoulder a bit, but otherwise we’re fine,” Louis turns to look at Harry, who nods, but doesn’t say a word. 

“Oh my… I’m so sorry. If you have to go to the emergency room, here’s my info and if you get any bills, send them to me, it’s the least I can do for you,” the words flow out from the man’s mouth like a raging river. 

“I think it’s just bruises, nothing worse,” Harry says quietly, taking the card from the man’s hand. 

“I’m sorry, but I really have to go, I have to be by my girlfriend’s side,” the man signs back towards his car that’s standing on the road with the door open. 

“No, no, of course! Go! We’ll be fine! Congratulations!” Louis musters up a smile and the man is already on his way. He turns around one last time by his car, waving at Louis and Harry. Then he’s back on his way. 

 

Louis turns to face Harry again and sees the group of people, who have gathered by the side of the road with horrified looks on their faces. One of them is Niall Horan. 

“Are you really okay?” Niall asks, the crowd watching Harry closely. He’s the one who took the hit. 

“Your arm is bleeding,” one of the girls from the group points out to Harry, who is completely fixated on Niall. Louis turns to Harry and turns him a little to see that there indeed is blood on his jacket. 

“Harry?” Louis asks and touches Harry’s scrape free shoulder. Harry snaps from his haze and the green in his eyes has paled. 

“Yeah, yeah, what, what did you say?” He looks at Louis with wide eyes. 

“You’re bleeding,” Louis points Harry’s other shoulder and when Harry looks down on it, there are blood stains on his right sleeve and it’s still coming through. 

“It’s probably nothing, just some little cut,” Harry shakes his head and swallows. The pain starts to work its way into Harry’s senses and suddenly his whole arms feels cold and wet with blood. 

“You sure?” Louis tilts his head worriedly. 

“Yeah, of course I’m sure,” Harry gives a pained smile and then looks back towards the group of people. They look at Harry and Louis and give them room to come off the road. Louis thanks them quietly, while Harry is too star struck to speak. Louis knows that he has to be the one with the voice. 

 

“Actually we were coming here to say hi to you, Niall. You see, my friend Harry here, is a huge fan of yours and he’d want a picture with you,” Louis speaks and gets Niall’s full attention. He starts to smile and his brows shoot up. 

“You were almost hit by a car just because you were coming to meet me?” His whole face looks incredulous. 

“I guess you could say that,” Louis chuckles, patting Harry on the shoulder and letting his hand rest there after the third pat. He squeezes Harry’s shoulder gently and makes him come back to this moment. 

 

“I’m… I’m a huge fan of yours. I’ve been following your career closely and I guess you’ve been my inspiration,” Harry tells quietly, but with enthusiasm in his voice. Niall smiles widely and walks forward. He shakes Harry’s hand and it evolves into a tight hug. 

“Harry is also a street musician and he just a moment ago got a record deal from the same company you are under,” Louis explains when Niall shakes his hand and hugs him quickly. 

“You serious? Wow, congratulations! You’re in good hands, mate,” he smiles to Harry who answers with a bright smile and a wave of his hand, where the contract still is. The paper has ripped a little, but the most important part, the signatures, are untouched. 

 

“Would you mind if we’d take a photo together?” Harry asks, his cheeks blushing. 

“Not at all, come ‘ere,” Niall smiles and fits Harry under his arm. He’s a little shorter than Harry, but his presence makes him look as tall as Harry. Louis takes the photo with Harry’s phone and Niall does his normal fan photo pose. He smiles wide and points at Harry, who beams under Niall’s arm. He looks like he has found a unicorn and the end of the rainbow. 

“Thank you so much guys, but I really have to get going,” Niall moves his hand from Harry’s shoulder and talks to the group of people. They all smile at him and thank him for stopping. 

“I guess I’ll see you later,” Niall smiles at Harry the last time before he has to get going. He waves at the people and runs the steps into the building. Many of the fans stay to stand there for a while, maybe waiting for Niall to come back out. But then they disperse with smiles on their faces. Harry and Louis are with them. 

 

“Did you get a good picture?” Harry asks quickly when he knows that Niall can’t hear them anymore. 

“It’s a brilliant photo,” Louis smiles and hands Harry his phone back. Harry checks it and lets out a little sigh, clutching his phone to his chest with the guitar strap, that he hasn’t let go. 

“Can you believe!? We just met Niall Horan!” Harry enthuses and he has a new stride in his step. 

“No, I can’t,” Louis watches on as Harry keeps on talking about Niall. But at some point he zones out and only stares at Harry. 

 

Something happened. He’s not sure how it happened, but it did. He felt his heart beating for a moment. Just for that one moment, when he pulled Harry away from the road, he felt his own heart beating for just a few beats. But those beats were magical. They pumped his blood around his body, they made his skin tingle, they made him feel something that he hasn’t felt since he was still alive. He thought he was going to burst through his skin, he thought his life would fall apart, he thought that it was all going to end. He almost felt like before, like when he was a human. 

Now the tingly feeling has passed, his heart is silent, his skin is growing colder inside. He can feel his whole body going to sleep again, yet here he is walking, presumably listening to Harry. He just can’t focus on the things he’s saying. Louis can only think about that one fleeting moment, when he felt alive. He has missed that feeling, that rush of feelings, like he has a purpose. Now he can only wish that he’d feel like that again. He wishes to feel like he’s actually here, that he’s not just a ghost from the past, but actually here, walking with Harry and being part of something bigger. Being part of life. Not someone who once was, but actually still is. 

 

Louis stays silent and when they reach Harry’s apartment door, he realises he has been in his own world for the whole time. Harry watches Louis closely, sensing that something’s on his mind. 

“What are you thinking?” Harry voices his thoughts out loud while turning towards his door and opens it. He steps inside, waiting for Louis to follow. He’s expecting to hear Louis say something, but Louis is taking his time thinking what he could say. 

“I guess it was just… what if we would’ve been hit by that car,” Louis breaths air out, his eyes finding Harry’s from the corner of his eye. He turns away quickly, taking off his shoes and going into the living room. He sits on the couch and shakes his head slowly while rubbing his lower lip with his fingers. 

Harry has never seen Louis like this, so deep in thought, clearly affected by what happened. He doesn’t look when Harry drops his guitar case next to the door and comes to sit next to him. Harry watches how Louis stacks his feet and wiggles his toes. Harry leans against the couch and keeps his hands on his knees. He eyes Louis, but doesn’t say anything, only waits for Louis to say something. When that doesn’t happen, Harry knows that he has to open his mouth. 

 

“I guess we had an angel with us, it was a very close call…” Harry quietly notes, but regrets his words right away. Who even talks about angels, Harry thinks while congratulating himself for embarrassing himself. Louis gives a grim laugh, but still doesn’t say anything. 

“You know, I do have to thank you. Without you we wouldn’t be sitting here. Who knows what could’ve happened if you wouldn’t have pulled me off the road,” Harry turns to Louis with the sincerest look in his eyes. He really means every word he says. Louis sighs and slowly turns his eyes to Harry. 

“So thank you,” Harry smiles and waits for Louis to say something. He only smirks a little, but there’s no happiness. 

“That moment just… It made me feel…” Louis tries to find words, but he’s not succeeding. 

“Alive?” Harry helps. 

“Yes! Adrenaline was all over my veins and…” Louis’ eyes are fiery with passion. His hand clutches into a fist and his breath catches in his throat. 

“I still can’t quite understand how close it was. I guess it’s the adrenaline that protects my brain,” Harry chuckles, looking down at his hands. That’s the first time he remembers his shoulder and how much it ached. The blood on his jacket has dried and now when he thinks about it, the pain hasn’t gone anywhere. He doesn’t say anything when he gets up and walks into the bathroom. Louis stays in the living room, trying to comprehend his own feelings. He was able to say something about his turmoil without giving away his real reason for his emotional state. 

 

“Louis?” Harry’s voice echoes from the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you come here?” Harry sounds off. Louis scrambles himself up from the couch. He goes into the bathroom to see what Harry wants, dragging his feet against the floor. He stops in his tracks right when he sees Harry in the mirror. He has turned his right shoulder towards the mirror to see the damage and it’s not what Louis was expecting. Angry blue, purple and red bruises have bloomed on Harry’s shoulder and arm, cuts and a layer of skin ripped off with his jacket. Harry stares at the skin on his arm, Louis coming closer. He covers his mouth with his hand. He did not expect to see something like this. 

“Did your jacket really do this?” Louis scrunches his brows together. He turns Harry slowly towards himself and eyes the injury closer. He avoids touching it, but he’s not even sure how he would touch it. Harry’s skin looks like he’s had a huge blister on his bicep and now it has popped. The dead skin has ripped off and has left an area of burnt, angry red skin. 

“I guess so… I didn’t even feel it until now when we talked about the whole thing,” Harry looks down at his own arm and tries to lift it. The skin tightens and it makes Harry breath in through his teeth. 

“Okay, sit down. Does it hurt if you move your shoulder or arm or is it just the injury?” Louis sits Harry on the toilet and inspects his arm. He’s not sure what he could do to it, but something has to be done. 

“It’s just the injury,” Harry’s curls flop down to shield his face and when he’s about to move them aside with his right hand, it protests and leaves Harry grimacing. 

“Do you have a first aid kit? So I could clean the wound,” Louis bites his teeth tightly together, when he sees how much pain Harry is in. Louis can’t really blame him, he’d be in pain too. If he’d be alive, that is. 

“Under the sink,” Harry points and when Louis opens the cabinet under the sink, there rests a red package. He opens it and finds a bottle of antiseptic, bandages, band-aids and some other things. 

 

“I think I have to clean it first,” Louis announces. Harry nods and his jaw tightens. Louis wets a piece of cotton wool with the antiseptic and moves it closer to Harry’s skin. 

“This can hurt a bit,” Louis says before he carefully pats the injured skin. Harry closes his eyes and scrunches his whole face. He starts to hit his feet against the floor, his knees bouncing up and down. 

“I’ll wait for a bit,” Louis takes the swab off of Harry’s skin. 

“No! Keep going! The faster you get it done, the better,” Harry can’t open his eyes, only prepares himself for the burning of the antiseptic. Louis pours some more liquid on the cotton swab and then keeps on going. 

 

“I’m done in just a second, not much left,” Louis tells Harry after what seems like an eternity. His skin is looking very red and Louis can clearly see where the blood had come from. 

“I think you should wash it under cold water after I’m done,” Louis pats the area which has survived with only a couple of small scrapes and then finishes. The swab in his hand is red from the dried blood on Harry’s arm, but Harry’s skin already looks a bit better. The blood made the injury look even worse. 

“Now, get your arm under cold shower. I’ll go and get a painkiller for you,” Louis leaves before Harry has even opened his eyes. When he does, the first thing he does is check his arm in the mirror. It doesn’t look so scary anymore and Harry sighs with relief. The antiseptic left a weird feeling of burning cold and when Harry puts his arm under a cold, soft shower, it feels like he’s sticking his arm under ice water. The water does wash away the rest of the blood and it feels nice on his skin. 

“Ready?” Louis comes back with a glass of water and a pill. Harry turns the shower off and goes back to sit on the toilet. Louis dries the area around the worst wounds and lets the others dry. He hands Harry the pill and the glass of water and watches on when Harry swallows it. 

 

“Where have you learnt all this? It’s almost like you’re a professional nurse,” Harry chuckles, feeling air drift by his injured skin. 

“I just hurt myself a lot when I was younger, a lot of bloody knees and elbows,” Louis tells him. It’s almost natural to take care of someone like this, clean their cuts and make sure they’re okay. He doesn’t really remember when he took care of some cuts and bruises, but the skill streamed from his fingers naturally. He does remember seeing a lot of blood, but not why it appeared. 

“How did you get them?” Harry asks. Louis looks Harry in the eyes for a beat too long; he doesn’t know what to tell Harry. He remembers that he did something which involved a lot of speed. Was it biking? Skateboarding? 

“Louis?” 

“Uh, skateboards,” he splutters out, not knowing if that’s even the truth. 

“You don’t dress like a conventional skateboarder,” Harry chuckles, Louis smiling nervously. 

“I got bored,” Louis tells him, trying to remember what he actually did. 

 

“I think your arm’s dry enough now,” Louis turns Harry’s bicep gently towards him. He ties a soft and thin bandage around it, making sure that it holds. 

“How does it feel?” Louis asks Harry, fixing the bandage once before finally letting go. 

“Feels good,” Harry nods and looks down at his arm. He lifts his gaze back to Louis and smiles gently, feeling small in front of him. 

“I think I should go,” Louis suddenly says, backing away from Harry. 

“You can stay if you want to,” Harry doesn’t want Louis to go. Especially not now. They didn’t even celebrate Harry’s contract yet. 

“No, I have to… I have to take care of something,” Louis tells him and turns around to leave. Harry follows him and watches how Louis quickly puts his shoes back on and then he’s by the front door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Louis looks confused or then really distracted. His eyes look glassy and then he turns around to walk out of the door. It slams after him before Harry has even had the chance to answer Louis or say goodbye to him. Did he do something wrong? Why did Louis leave like something was up? 

Harry walks into the living room and goes to stand by the window. He sees how Louis rushes out from the building. He has his hands in his jacket pockets and he takes speedy steps on the street. Soon Harry can’t even see him anymore in the crowds. 

 

His apartment feels so big without someone there. Harry has almost gotten used to the feeling of having Louis there, they’ve been spending so much time together lately. But now? What happens now? Harry has a record deal, will Louis just leave him? Is he going to come back anymore? Was Louis there only to help Harry get his record deal? 

The thoughts start to hurt Harry’s head. He’s not sure what to think or if he actually did something to drive Louis away. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Maybe it’s the painkiller that makes Harry feel like shit. It’s making him tired, it lowers his adrenaline to the lowest of lows and he starts to feel the pain. As suddenly as the pain takes over his arm and shoulder, the pill does its deed and numbs the feeling of having his outer layer of skin taken off. 

Maybe Harry should just give up for today. He was so anxious earlier that it used all his energy and now, in early evening, he feels like he’s been up for over 24 hours. Harry can’t even remember when he was this tired the last time. Maybe he has never felt like this. Without questions, Harry walks to his bed and crawls in the middle of it, wrapping himself loosely in his duvet. It feels like heaven to rest his head against the pillow and close his eyes. Every muscle in his body relaxes at the same time and it almost hurts to let go of all the tension. 

Harry can feel his muscles between his brows loosening. His eyelids shut together tighter, making everything black. It gets easier to fall asleep than staying awake. The darkness takes over and Harry knows that he’s already half asleep when he remembers that maybe he should undress. He’s just so damn tired to actually do it. He tries to move his limbs, but his hands and legs aren’t working. Gratefully Harry lets the sleep take his body and mind away. 

//

Harry stares at the drink between his palms. He isn’t sure when he ordered it or if he even wanted it. Either way, he’s sitting in his regular bar. The lighting is dim as usual and music is playing quietly. When Harry’s looking around the space, it seems like the other customers aren’t moving. They look like they’re from a movie which has been paused. Harry tries to see their faces, but they’re faceless. He can’t see anything clearly, he can only see the figures of the other people if he really tries to focus his sight on them. He knows that they are moving, but he can’t see it or they’re moving very slowly. 

Harry can see Liam behind the counter. He has his back towards Harry and he’s doing something. He looks normal, he’s moving and doing the things he normally does. 

“Liam?” Harry opens his mouth and when he has called for his friend, he realises his voice sounds odd. It’s impossibly slow and low. Harry can’t recognise it as his own, it’s almost as if someone else would be saying the things he’s about to say, but they’re using Harry’s mouth. 

“Liam?” Harry calls again and his voice makes shivers run down his spine. The sound creeps him out. Then he realizes something. Liam hasn’t reacted to his calls in any way. As if he couldn’t even hear Harry calling him. Then Harry notices something else in Liam too. Liam is standing in one place. He’s doing something, but he’s not turning around. For some reason Harry gets a feeling that he doesn’t even want Liam to turn around. That his face could be something Harry doesn’t want to see. 

Harry looks down at his drink and it looks black in the glass. The rim glimmers in the dim light, but the liquid is like a black hole between his hands. Harry feels his heartbeat picking up. He can hear people talking, but the sound is distant and fades away from time to time. Harry would like to leave, but when he tries to move, his body is like stone. He can only move his head and the rest of his body doesn’t respond to the commands his brain is sending through his body. 

 

“I want what he’s having, apparently it’s good,” Harry can hear Louis say. He turns his head and sees Louis sitting next to him. But he’s not like before. Louis smiles calmly, his head tilted, his eyes like pools of heaven. He’s radiating this bizarre light, making Harry calm. He doesn’t feel like the people around him are monsters anymore, he feels his breathing slowing down. 

“He doesn’t speak, interesting,” Louis chuckles, his warm voice like honey to Harry’s ears. 

“What should I even say to you?” Harry can hear himself ask, his voice still as distorted as before. Then it hits Harry. This is the first time he met Louis. What is this déjà vu bullshit? He can only stare at Louis who keeps on smiling, calming Harry’s nightmare into a dream of serenity. 

Louis’ lips start to move, but Harry can’t hear what he says. Louis’ smiles and his eyes close and open slowly. He looks like a dream, soft and warm. Harry can smell summer, grass after a mellow rain. He is pretty sure that he can also hear something else, but he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. Just a distant melody, which is almost like a soundtrack to meeting Louis. 

Harry’s eyes move to Louis’ lips, when he says something again. This time his eyes turn sad, as he casts them towards the floor. A few tears glisten on his lashes. Harry would want to reach out to him and comfort Louis, but he’s still paralysed. Louis looks back up to meet Harry’s gaze, gives him a sad smile and stands up. He moves slowly and turns away, after saying something to Harry. Harry would want to ask what he’s saying, he wants to know. Maybe it’s something important. But his lips are glued together. 

When Louis turns around, Harry follows him with his eyes. He watches how gracefully he moves, how his feet are almost gliding against the floor. The faint wings on his back move when Louis opens the door and a cool breeze shakes the insides of the bar. Louis walks out, the halo around him disappearing. When the door closes after him and he takes away the calming light, Harry’s body melts. He’s not sure what happens, but he’s almost certain he’s not feeling anything under his body. Like he’s falling. 

//

Harry’s body hits the floor as if he has fallen from a tall building. His heart hammers in his chest and his cheeks are wet with tears. He wipes them away, remembering that something was wrong with his voice. 

“Hello?” Harry asks from the darkness around him. He doesn’t know what the time is, but it looks like he could be well into the night already. His voice sounds like before, nothing’s wrong with it. Harry breathes out in relief. He crawls back onto the bed, taking his t-shirt and jeans off. He feels much freer, maybe the dream was so disturbing because of that. 

If Harry could just remember what else happened in that dream. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis thinks that his home looks odd during the night. The windows are dark, the yard is empty, the bushes are just about to grow leaves, but it’s still not warm enough for them to bloom through the branches. The house looks almost like no one has lived there in a long time. It looks lonely. 

But someone does live there. It is still home to Louis’ dad. Stephen doesn’t want to move out, not when there are so many memories inside those walls. Now he doesn’t have anybody to make new memories with. He’s living inside those walls, looking at old pictures, thinking about the good old times. He lives in quietness of his own thoughts, of his own remorse. Why didn’t he stop Donna from leaving? Why didn’t he ask Louis to stay? Why? He asks those questions from himself every day; every second of the hours he’s awake. The same questions are in a merry-go-round, as if they’d be mocking Stephen. What else could he do with his life now, though? 

He got fired from his work because he couldn’t get over the fact, that the people he loved the most in this world, were now gone. He has nothing in his life anymore, other than his thoughts and his nightmares. He can’t stop thinking if Donna and Louis were in pain. If they knew what was happening. 

Stephen’s head keeps him awake at night or if he falls asleep, he can see himself watching the accident, but like a masochist, he doesn’t do anything to help. He sees his wife and son suffer, but he’s not there to help, he’s only watching. And every time he wakes from that dream, he apologizes out loud. Because he’s sure Donna and Louis are close. Even though he can’t see them, he knows they are there. 

 

When Louis walks into the house, he finds his dad sleeping by the kitchen table. He has spread some old photos on the table, one still in his hand. Louis sits next to his dad, which calms Stephen’s trembling hand against the table. Louis would want to touch his dad, take Stephen’s hand between his own, but he knows he can’t do that. It could actually wake Stephen, which could lead to trouble. 

Louis settles on watching the pictures in the darkness. He takes one into his hand. He can see it through a haze, but the picture is so dear to him, that he doesn’t really need to see it clearly. He remembers the picture, he remembers the moment. 

Louis is about four in the photo. He’s with his dad who is teaching Louis to ride a bike. They’re both smiling. Louis is standing next to his brand new bike, which he had gotten as a present from his parents. It was green and it had a lightning sticker on the side. Stephen is crouched next to Louis and the bike, one of his hands on Louis’ shoulder and the other keeping the bike up. He looks so young in the picture, almost like a different person compared to how he looks now. Stephen’s hair has gotten greyer, his eyes are sad all the time, even when he’s asleep. He has lost some weight which makes some of the wrinkles on his face deeper. He’s almost like a ghost of the person who he used to be. 

Drops of adrenaline tingle on the tips of Louis’ fingers. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling it, maybe it’s because of the memory he’s having from the picture. He remembers riding that bike and falling many times. His knees and arms were always scuffed. He always felt the high speed, almost as if he could be able to fly. He didn’t care about the blood or the scrapes, he loved the speed and the adrenaline. 

The feeling was almost like an escape from his reality. He can’t remember why he wanted to escape, but always when he was still a young boy, he wanted to escape something. There was something at home that made him sad. Sometimes he didn’t want to come home and that green bike took him on many adventures. He found places that were very dear to him still when he was older. He can still see them in his mind, he just misses how to get to those places. 

 

Louis places the picture on the table and stands up. He wanders around the house, ending up in his room. It still looks the same as it was when he was last here. Or when he was still living. Some books are on the nightstand with his headphones. There’s no dust anywhere, not even a thin layer. It only shows that Stephen has been cleaning here. He wants to keep the room like it was. As if Louis would be on a long journey and he’d come back any day now. 

A shoe box on his desk attracts his attention. Louis has always forgotten to look inside it, just because he has been with his mum and she likes to be with Stephen. She has always said that it doesn’t matter what’s in Louis’ room, he’s not going to need them anymore anyway. But now when Louis is alone and he has the time to travel back in time and get to know himself again, it’s almost relieving to see those little things he had kept. 

Without putting any lights on, Louis sits on a chair by his desk. Instantly he can remember some late nights when he tried to get essays or homework done. The chair feels familiar. It almost makes Louis smile; how much he has missed something so simple as a chair and the feeling it can give him.

Louis opens the box carefully, almost like it was a time capsule. Old movie and concert tickets take almost half of the shoe box. Some are faded, some look more recent. He can’t remember any particular concert or movie, they all mix together into a blur of sounds and lights in his head. He can’t grasp who he was with or what kind of an experience it was with different people. He can see some faces, but they come and go so quickly from his mind that it doesn’t really matter if he saw them or not. 

 

For a long time, Louis sits by his desk and watches how the dark of the night turns even darker. It becomes black and sucks all the lights into a void. He knows that he has to leave soon, but it starts to tempt him to know, what would happen if he would stay? What if his dad would see him? Louis knows that he can’t be seen by anyone who knew him before. It could drive them to insanity. But what if? 

What if Louis would explain it all; that he’s not completely gone but he’s not alive either? His mind starts to go in circles, endless questions floating in. They start to amuse him, because he knows how silly his thoughts are. He can’t let his dad know that he’s here, it’d be absurd to Louis too. But still, here he is, wondering what would happen if he’d just go back to his normal life. Tell people that he’s back and he’s the same person he was when he died, he just can’t remember a lot from his previous life. It’d almost be like starting with a clean slate. 

Louis chuckles out loud, knowing that he can’t do any of it, when he hears a soft knock from the kitchen. Louis’ eyes shoot towards his door, which he left ajar even though it was closed when he got here last night. He sees the clock on his nightstand, it’s almost one in the morning. He can hear his dad yawning, starting a pot of tea and walking around the kitchen. Louis can feel how suddenly his heart comes alive. It starts to pump adrenaline through his veins, the flood making noise in his head and tingles in the tips of his fingers. 

What is he going to do? If his dad comes into the hallway and sees Louis’ room door open, he could freak out. When Louis hears his dad sitting by the kitchen table again, he calms down a little bit. He stands up and tip toes to his door, closing it just enough for it to look like it hasn’t been touched. For a moment Louis ponders if he should hide or if he could sit back by his table and wait for his dad to do something. He ends up hiding under his bed, it’s the safest choice.

When he crawls under his old bed, Louis is ready to get balls of dust in his mouth, but when that doesn’t happen, he notices how clean his floor is. It was never this clean when Louis was still alive. His dad must’ve vacuumed here not too long ago. Louis makes himself comfortable and waits patiently for something to happen. He can hear his dad pouring tea into a mug and walking around the kitchen and living room, it’s almost like when Louis was still here. 

It’s so familiar and homey, almost freakishly normal. Stephen hums something to himself, the sound quiet, almost too quiet for Louis to hear it. Louis is sure he’s singing something, but then his dad stops humming and grows quiet, until he starts to talk to himself. Louis can’t make out all of the words, he can only distinct his own name a few times and parts of I miss you’s. 

A spoon clinks against a mug. The sound comes closer with dragging footsteps and Louis feels like Stephen is going to come into Louis’ room. But then the footsteps stop and the couch in the living room complains with squeaks. The spoon clinks a couple of times more before Stephen sets the mug down onto the coffee table. The house is eerily quiet even though Louis knows that he’s not alone. 

He waits under his bed for a good half an hour before he dares to crawl out. He walks carefully to his door and peeks into the living room. He can see his dad sitting on the couch, his head resting against the back of the sofa. He has draped himself with a blanket and he has clearly fallen back asleep. Louis smiles to himself, closes the door to his room and leaves. He’s careful to not make any disturbing sounds, so his dad can sleep in peace. 

 

As soon as Louis steps outside, he can see Donna standing in the yard. She has her head tilted, her eyes on Louis as soon as she sees him. She looks calm, her eyes watching her son closely. She’s touching her ring finger with her right hand, the golden band loose around it. She’s waiting for Louis, but Louis isn’t sure if he wants to see his mum, at least not right now. She always makes him feel a bit confused, he can’t decide what to do when she’s around. 

Louis felt like he was fighting against some unsaid rules when he went to see his dad alone. He has never gone see Stephen without his mum. She has always been there, telling Louis what to do and where to stand and wait if she wants to stand by Stephen’s side for a moment. Louis has never been allowed to make his own decision while he’s been living this odd second life. Even now Louis can’t go and greet his mum like he normally would. He has his hand on the door handle, as if he’d go back inside. But his mum is waiting for him. Louis knows she’s not going to leave without him. 

 

Slowly Louis lets go of the door and with heavy feet, he walks to meet his mum. He feels small and weak. The calmness Donna spreads around herself is suffocating, almost like a grey area. It makes Louis tired; he doesn’t know what to say to his mum. So he waits for her to say something. She stares into his eyes, expecting something, but when no words come out of Louis’ mouth, she speaks. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?” 

“To see dad?” Donna nods as an answer. 

“I wanted to go alone. I had to think about something,” Louis pushes himself past Donna and starts to walk away. He leaves the yard, opening the gate and stepping onto the pavement. He gives his home one last look before he leaves.

“What did you have to think about? Has something happened?” Donna is quickly by Louis’ side. 

“No, everything’s alright. It was just this… feeling,” Louis swallows and keeps on walking. He wishes his mum would just leave him alone. 

“What do you mean?” Louis stops and looks up towards the sky. Some clouds are scattered across it, still some stars manage to glint through them. Before he speaks, Louis takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. As he goes back to that moment when he pushed Harry off the road and when just a moment ago he hid under his bed, he gets the same feeling of adrenaline pumping in his body. The exhilarating feeling of his heart starting to beat in his chest is what he’s waiting for, but it doesn’t happen. He can only feel the adrenaline tingling in his fingertips, but his heart stays silent. He also knows why nothing happens; He’s in no danger. 

 

Louis directs his eyes to his mum, who is waiting to hear what has happened. She looks concerned, but the grey cloud, which surrounds her, makes Louis feel blank. His emotions become flat and it feels almost silly talking about what he experienced earlier. 

“I was with Harry and I kind of saved him from getting hit by a car. At that moment I felt… I know that it doesn’t make any sense, but I felt like I was alive. I felt my heart beating and I felt blood coursing through my body. It was nothing I had experienced before!” Louis’ voice gets caught in his throat, he’s almost out of breath when he finishes. His eyes are flaming, he wants to feel the same way as before. But now he’s only working himself up. 

“You need to calm down, Louis,” Donna puts her hand on his shoulder. 

“No! You don’t understand what it was like!” 

“Well I don’t, but I guess it can happen to anyone,” Donna speaks with her quiet voice, but it only infuriates Louis more. 

“Can you even remember what it was like when you last felt your heart beating? Or when you felt the warmth of blood running through you? When you felt something else other than this?” Louis signs his hand up and down in front of his mum. 

“This?” 

“This blank feeling you carry around you!” Louis blows air through his mouth and looks at his mum for a moment, before he turns around and starts to walk away. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, wishing his mum wouldn’t follow him. But it’s not long until she’s by his side. 

 

“Please stop,” Donna orders Louis. When he doesn’t listen, she takes a hold of Louis’ arm. He’s pulled back and he knows that he has to stay, but he doesn’t want to look at his mum in the eye. 

“I haven’t felt like the way you have, but maybe it has a reason. Maybe you’ll eventually know why you felt like you did,” she reasons, earning Louis’ attention. 

“What do you think it meant? Why haven’t you felt it?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you have a connection with Harry, which makes you feel the way he does. Or maybe it means that soon it’s your time to leave. Maybe I haven’t felt it because I don’t have the same kind of connection with anyone, like you have with Harry, and your journey is simply coming to an end.” 

Louis stares at his mum for a good while. 

“What do you mean, I have to leave? Where would I be going?” 

“To heaven or whatever is out there,” Donna shakes her head. She gives Louis a weak smile, still trying to calm him down. She lets go of his arm, softly wrapping her arms around him instead. 

“I don’t understand…” Louis accepts his mum’s hug and holds her. He can smell her familiar scent that reminds him of home. He wonders, if normal people can smell the same as he can. Or if it’s just him. 

“You remember how I told you to be there for Harry, be his friend?” Louis nods his head against Donna’s shoulder. She eases him out of her hug and holds her hands on his shoulders while looking him in the eyes. 

“Maybe you’ve done what you were meant to do, maybe it’s now time for you to let go.” 

Louis steps back. He can’t wrap his head around what his mum is saying. That he’d need to let go? 

 

“So now that I’ve done my mission, I have to leave Harry alone? Is that what you mean?” Louis emphasises his words with air quotes. 

“Well, he has to survive on his own at some point. You can’t stay here forever,” Donna steps closer to Louis, but he takes one more step further away from her. 

“First you encourage me to befriend a person, who I didn’t even like at first. And now, when I’ve actually become really good friends with him, you want me to leave him alone, once again?” 

“What did you expect? I know that we have to help people who need it. And Harry needed help. I also know that when you’re done with whatever you need to do, then you’re free to go.” 

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“Don’t be silly, Louis,” 

“You know, you go, don’t follow me around anymore,” Louis shakes his head and turns his back to his mum once again. 

“Louis…” Donna yells after him. 

“Leave me alone!” Louis yells and doesn’t look back. He’s afraid to admit that maybe his mum is right. Maybe it’s his time to go soon. Maybe he has to leave his life behind, maybe he has to leave Harry… 

 

Louis stands in front of Harry’s building. He wandered there without him knowing where he was going and now when he’s standing there, seeing Harry’s windows, he almost feels like he’s home. Harry’s place has become a place for him too; he feels comfortable there. It’s almost like his new home now. He just doesn’t know if he should go there. He left Harry earlier, because he was so confused of his own experience. But what Harry felt, it must’ve been even more confusing. Louis didn’t explain anything to him. He left Harry, injured and probably hurt. 

He can see the two windows, which belong to Harry. Darkness answers darkness; Harry must already be sleeping. The nights are still cold even though days are already warmer. The sun shines and it’s making everything come alive. Louis can see a cloud of grey air puffing from his mouth when he breathes warm air into the night. He’s not sure what to do, until he sees a figure standing a little further away from him. Louis knows that it’s his mum, he doesn’t even have to check. He can see the halo she carries around her, he knows it too well already. 

Fortunately she stays back; she doesn’t say anything to Louis or come and interrupt his thoughts with her grey cloud. Though, her presence makes him decide what he’s going to do. Without noticing his mum any better than he already has, Louis makes his way towards the building and up the steps to the heavy door. He buzzes the button which has Harry’s last name on it and waits for him to open the door. 

He has to buzz the bell three times before he’s let inside. He opens the door and almost runs the steps to Harry’s floor. When Louis gets the stairs up, Harry’s door opens slowly. Louis approaches it. He’s greeted with a dim beam of light through the door. He opens the door and sees Harry. He yawns and his eyes are half shut. He’s only wearing a t-shirt and some briefs, which makes Louis feel a bit uncomfortable. When Harry sees Louis, he gives Louis a nod and drags his feet into the living room. Louis can hear how Harry throws himself on the bed, the duvet and the sheets rustling together. 

 

Louis closes the door and takes off his shoes and jacket. He washes his hands and splashes some water on his face too. The apartment is almost completely dark, but Harry had put on a light in the kitchen. It’s a single light above the sink, just bright enough for Louis to see around himself. He takes a glass of water and thinks what he should do next. Harry’s probably already asleep so he’s practically alone. 

“Louis?” He can hear a faint call from the sleeping alcove. Louis switches the light off from the kitchen and walks to see what Harry needs. 

“I thought you were back asleep,” Louis stage whispers, tip toeing to Harry, even though he knows that he doesn’t have to be careful how much noise he makes.

“I couldn’t sleep before I talked to you,” Harry’s husky voice says under the duvet. 

“What is it?” Louis stands in the dark, feeling a little silly when he’s not on the same level with Harry. He can see a hand peeking under the duvet, when it reaches to put on the fairy lights. 

“Can you sit down?” Harry moves the duvet so Louis can see his face. Harry pats the mattress next to him. Tentatively Louis sits down, making sure he’s not going to sit on Harry’s leg. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asks, his eyes glinting in the lighting that makes everything look extremely soft. 

“Of course,” Louis nods and waits for Harry to continue. 

“Did I do something today? Earlier, when you left, it left me thinking that I did something wrong,” Harry wonders out loud, his brows scrunching together. 

“No, no, everything’s fine. I just… remembered something that I had to take care of. It’s kind of personal, so I didn’t know how to tell you about it.” Louis feels bad that he’s lying to Harry. But his feelings today are something that he can’t talk about. Harry could never understand, he’s a human after all. Louis is something else, and it makes him sad. He’d like to think that he’s the same with Harry. That they’re both a bit lost, but now when they’ve become friends, life is easier. It’s just not that simple. 

“You do know that you can tell me anything. I’ve told you things that I don’t normally talk about and I’d never judge you,” Harry’s eyes become a little more awake. He really means what he’s saying, it’s not just some empty words which they can forget. 

“It’s a long story,” Louis gives a weak smile, wishing Harry’s not going to ask more. Louis doesn’t know what to tell him, if Harry would ask him another question. 

“I have all the time you need when you’re ready to talk about it,” Harry reaches his hand out to Louis and touches Louis’ hand, which is on the bed. He holds his hand out for a moment, before he pulls it back and buries himself under the duvet. Louis can see him closing his eyes. Harry’s lashes curl at the tips, just like his hair curls into luscious ringlets. For some reason, Louis thinks Harry looks like an angel. 

 

“One more question,” Harry opens his eyes suddenly and catches Louis staring. Louis directs his sight towards the windows on the other end of the room. 

“Hmmm?” Louis is so embarrassed he can’t even look at Harry. 

“I guess you need a place to sleep tonight? I was thinking, you can sleep next to me. I have an extra duvet and a pillow, I could get them out for you,” Harry tells Louis, silent joy in his voice. Louis thinks about his words for a while. He can’t say that he doesn’t need them because he can’t sleep. And now, he doesn’t even come up with a good excuse. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” Louis turns to eye Harry, but is greeted with a dismissive wave of Harry’s hand. 

“That couch is too small, even for you. Of course you’ll sleep next to me, there’s plenty of room for the both of us,” Harry peels the duvet off himself and stands up. Louis doesn’t know what to do so he stands there, his hands awkwardly swinging by his sides. Harry pulls out the extra bedding under his bed and throws them on the other side of the mattress. 

“I could give you something more comfortable to wear too, if you’d like?” Harry suggests when he sees Louis’ tight jeans. 

“No, it’s fine, thanks,” Louis smiles and crawls on the bed. He lays down and pulls some of the duvet on himself. The bed is very comfortable. If he could fall asleep, he would’ve already closed his eyes in satisfaction. Harry comes back to bed and turns off the lights. The sheets make that homey rustling sound again, when Harry turns to his back.

 

“So we’re good?” He asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Louis whispers back and watches the ceiling without seeing anything. 

“And thanks for letting me inside even though it’s so late, I didn’t know where else to go,” Louis continues. He wishes he doesn’t sound too sappy, even though his words make himself feel a little sorry for himself. 

“No problem,” Harry mutters and turns the light off. He takes a deep breath in and blows it out in a steady long sigh. 

 

“Thank you for today,” Harry mutters, his words tumbling together, when Louis is almost sure Harry has already fallen back asleep. 

“Thank you,” Louis smiles to himself and listens to Harry, whose steady breathing turns slower and slower. 

Louis can’t stop thinking what his life is now. A couple of months ago he thought Harry doesn’t want anyone near him. He thought that befriending Harry would be an impossible task. But here he is, in the same bed, next to his best friend. Harry has become so important to Louis and he’s almost sure, he’s also important to Harry. 

Louis has never felt this kind of connection with anyone, not that he would really even remember it. But this feels different in every way. Louis knows that Harry needs a friend, someone who cares and listens and lets him be the person who he is. Harry shouldn’t apologise for who he is or what he wants to do in life. He’s chasing his dreams and now he’s closer to it. He just needs someone by his side, he needs a little encouragement from people who he can trust. And Louis has been that person for him. 

The kiss makes Louis wonder what it has all meant. Was it an accident? Was it just an excuse for Harry to kiss Louis; his excitement? What if Harry is feeling something else towards Louis too? Something more… But what are Louis’ options? He can’t leave Harry, not after all this time they’ve spent together. If Louis would leave, he’d need to explain it. He’s not even sure if he could leave Harry, he has become such an important friend. But if Harry starts to feel something more, what could Louis do? What would he do? The questions roll inside Louis’ head freely, while he listens to Harry sleeping and breathing calmly. The sound of Harry breathing is like a slow clock, which almost makes Louis tired too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 6
> 
> Arcade Fire (Her Soundtrack) / Dimensions  
> Radiohead / No Surprises  
> The Last Shadow Puppets / Miracle Aligner  
> Tara Jane O’Neil / All Now Vibe  
> Andreas Mattsson / En Vit Älg 2  
> Yann Tiersen / La Dispute  
> Ludwig van Beethoven / Sonata No. 14 “Moonlight” in C-sharp manor  
> Dmitry Evgrafov / Sway  
> Catfish and the Bottlemen / 7  
> Bonnie Tyler / Total Eclipse of the Heart  
> Bing & Ruth / TWTGA  
> White Lies / Nothing to Give

When Harry wakes up, he’s not sure what to expect. His sleep was interrupted by the thought of having Louis next to him and even when he was falling into a deeper sleep, Louis’ face kept him awake enough for him to realize that he wasn’t alone in his bed. He didn’t dream. He didn’t move because even when he was asleep, he was afraid of disturbing Louis. He seemed distraught when he got to Harry’s and in a way it got Harry very worried. What could’ve happened to make Louis seem so lost? His eyes looked tired and he seemed like he had lost all his focus which is always in his eyes; that determined glimmer which is like a beacon in the dark. 

Harry can’t keep still any longer. He has to see that Louis is still there, next to him, sleeping peacefully. When Harry peeks his eyes open, the first thing he sees is the back of Louis’ head. He’s sleeping on his back, his head turned to the other direction. His whole body is curved to the other side of the bed, which makes Harry wonder if Louis has a stiff neck after he wakes up. His position doesn’t look especially comfortable. 

He still looks like he’s not going to wake up any time soon. His breathing is even and calm, his whole body looks relaxed. Harry wishes he could own that very same ability. He feels like he hasn’t slept at all. That doesn’t happen very often, though, but when it does, it leaves his whole body aching. He feels like his heart could pound out of his chest. His hands become sweaty. His head starts to ache. His mind isn’t at ease and everything starts to be too much for him. Sounds are too loud. Lights are too bright. 

He doesn’t know why his body acts this way, especially around Louis. He has noticed it before too. When Louis hasn’t been here, he worries about him in his sleep. When Louis is here, he can’t relax. There’s this feeling of losing control if he’d let himself relax. He’s afraid he could say something or do something wrong. He doesn’t even know what that wrong could be, but the thought of doing something that could upset Louis makes him even more anxious. Louis has become such an important friend for Harry that he has started to get afraid of losing him. It has happened before… 

 

With slow moves, Harry gets out of bed. He tiptoes into the kitchen and sits down by the counter on one of the chairs. He looks down towards his arm. It’s sore, very sore, but he can live with it.

For a while he stares at his phone that rests on the table. He doesn’t want to call but he knows that he has to. One final deep breath before he takes his phone into his hand and searches for his mum’s number. 

It rings. Once. Twice. Third time and it cuts. 

“Hello?” Harry’s mum, Margaret, answers. 

“It’s Harry,” his voice comes out sounding more bored than he meant it to sound. 

“Harry! How are you?” Margaret sounds genuinely surprised. There a bounce in her voice, which Harry doesn't hear that often. Usually he's greeted by flatness in her voice and for once she sounds happy and like she's pleased to hear her son's voice.

“Don’t you have my number anymore? Didn’t you know who was calling?” Harry’s first reaction is. Almost as if Harry would be a distant relative. She sounds too excited.

“I didn’t check the caller ID, I only answered. Isn’t that enough?” 

Harry doesn't know if it's enough for his mum to just pick up the phone. They haven't called much lately and it seems like she has given up on calling Harry. Now she seems to be in good spirits, which does make Harry happy. She hasn't had that many good days.

“I’m good, mum. I actually have some news for you,” Harry lets her latest question slide. He’s too tired to bother his mind with it. 

“Have you heard from Marie?” Sounds from the other end of the call. 

“No, sorry mum, but I actually, yesterday, I… I got a recording deal,” Harry stammers. It’s harder than he thought it would be, to tell his mum that he’s finally got what he wanted. 

“Oh?” The surprised sound of his mum makes Harry feel like he didn’t tell her his big news. 

“Mum, I got a recording deal. I’m going to be a recording artist. That’s a job!” 

“What does it mean technically? Are you sure it's a good place for you??” 

“Yes, it’s a big company and has signed very successful names, like Niall Horan! You remember his songs, you actually once said that you liked his songs. I'm going to make an album someday, I promise,” Harry tries to take the conversation to a more positive ground. He knew his mum wouldn't understand everything. Maybe saying that he got a recording deal doesn't mean anything to her when it means so much to Harry.

“I do like his songs…” Margaret says thoughtfully. Harry doesn’t know what else to say, what to tell her. What else is there to say? 

 

“Well we need to celebrate! What if you’d come home for a day and have dinner with us?” Margaret’s smiley voice suggests. 

“Uhm, sure… But I won’t be coming alone?” Harry has no idea where he’s taking this. Why is he saying this? 

“Who are you coming with then?” His mum asks after a moment. It seems like an eternity when in reality the silence lasts only for a few seconds. 

“My friend, who helped me get the deal. His name’s Louis,” Harry says in one long sentence, his breath running out before he’s finished. 

“Oh, sounds lovely, can’t wait to meet him,” Harry’s mum sounds uncomfortable. She’s clearly not excited or jumping with glee. More like smiling to Harry’s face but as soon as he turns around she’s going to roll her eyes. 

“When could you come here? Is this weekend too early, let’s say Saturday?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Harry nods to himself, wanting the call to end. He doesn’t know how to keep on talking with his mum when he can see a mental image of Margaret and how she really doesn’t want to host some family get together. She hasn't hosted anything in a long time, because it tires her too much. Of course Harry's dad, Dexter, is there too. But she thinks she can still do it. She's just not the same person she used to be. She doesn't let Dexter help her and in the end, Dexter is the one who always asks the guests to leave.

 

“Okay, well, come in the afternoon and we’ll have a great dinner,” Harry knows that Margaret wants to end the call already too. 

“We’ll do,” Harry agrees, hearing silence after his words. 

“I have to get going now, I’ll see you and your friend on Saturday.”

“Bye, mum,” Harry says, waiting for his mum to say something. When that doesn’t happen, Harry lowers the phone from his ear and ends the call. It’s still counting minutes, when he sees the screen. Margaret is still listening before Harry shuts her out from his life again. 

 

“Hey,” Louis peeks behind the corner. Harry looks up, seeing a cloud of fluffy hair and bright eyes. 

“Hi,” he smiles and musters up a smile. He casts his eyes back towards his phone, knowing that he has to say something to Louis. But suddenly a fear takes over his thoughts; what if Louis says no? What’s he going to do then?

“Were you talking with someone?” Louis asks, walking towards Harry and leaning against the counter. 

“Umm, yeah… Actually, it was my mum,” Harry swallows thickly, squeezing his phone between his hands. 

“Do you need to ask me something?” 

Harry breaths out a sigh, his eyes finding Louis’. The fear in Harry’s mind clears away as he sees Louis’ warm smile. 

“Okay, well… She asked me to go home for dinner on Saturday and for some reason I told her I’m bringing… you?” Harry’s brows rise when he finishes his sentence. 

“Did you hear me talking with her?” Harry already knows the answer. 

“I woke up a while ago and heard you mentioning my name, so I guess I heard most of it,” Louis taps his fingers against the table. 

“So, will you come with me?” Harry feels the nerves building up, he’s so ready to be rejected. Louis sighs, sitting next to Harry. 

“Harry…” Louis drags his hand across his face, scrunching his brows.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” Louis shakes his head, directing his apologetic eyes on Harry. There it is – rejection. 

“They could get the wrong idea, think that I’m more than just a friend… Or something,” Louis shrugs, his eyes getting wider as he speaks, almost like he’d be in a shock by what he’s saying. 

“No!” Harry squeaks, clearing his throat. 

“No,” he starts again. 

“I’ll explain it to them, that we’re only friends and nothing more.” Louis starts to shake his head slowly while Harry is still speaking. 

“Just listen to me,” Harry turns towards Louis and demands for his full attention. 

“When I tell them how it really is, they’ll listen to me. I just have to be very assertive with them, but I promise it’s going to be good,” Harry feels like he’s begging for Louis to say yes. This time Louis isn’t shaking his head, he’s watching Harry closely. Maybe Harry’s words are making a change. 

“I really need you there, I don’t know what I’d do there all day with just my parents… I really need someone by my side, I don’t know how I’ll survive without you there…” Harry knows that he’s going overboard with his words. If it felt like he was begging earlier, then he definitely is doing something way more drastic than only begging. But his words aren’t just to make Louis come with him. He really doesn’t know what he could do at his old home. He knows that it’s going to be awkward with his mum and dad and he’s not sure if he even wants to make any effort to make it feel more comfortable. He doesn’t really want to go there, but he also knows that he has to go home at some point. 

 

Louis sighs deeply, tilting his head to the side, “fine, I’ll come with you. I guess it can’t be that bad.” Louis gives a breathy chuckle, not especially enthusiastic about going to Harry’s home and seeing his parents. 

“Yes! Thank you Louis!” Harry cheers, leaning in for a hug. His face twists and his movements come to a halt. He stares Louis in the eyes with a shocked expression in his. The same emotion is mirrored in Louis’ eyes. Harry leans back slowly, an awkward smile on his face, his eyes drifting away from Louis. Harry doesn’t know what to say, if he should apologise or just move on like nothing had happened. Well, nothing happened, but he’s feeling super uncomfortable only sitting there in front of Louis. 

“I’m sor…” Harry begins when Louis cuts him. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, no problem,” Louis waves his hand in the air, avoiding Harry and looking anywhere else than the man opposite him. They stay silent, a deep sigh resonating in Harry’s body. 

 

“So… What should I bring with me?” Louis offers a small smile, hoping his attempt at changing the subject works. Harry’s face brightens up, his attention back on Louis and the awkwardness between the two slowly fades away. 

 

\- - - -

 

“Louis, I don’t think it’s very clever to go,” Donna walks behind him, Louis almost running away from his mother. He doesn’t answer, even when Donna grabs his arm and tries to stop him. Louis only shakes her off and keeps on walking. He’s trying to stay calm as he’s walking to Harry’s. He wasn’t supposed to tell his mum anything about going to meet Harry’s parents, it just slipped from his mouth. He knew Donna would only want to stop him. 

“Louis! You know it doesn’t make any sense!” Donna is running after Louis when suddenly he stops on his tracks and turns around. 

“And this does? What are we? Is this normal to you; being alive after being killed?” Donna bumps to Louis, her face frantic. Finally she’s showing some emotion behind those dull eyes. 

“No, Louis, that’s not what I meant,” she continues, when Louis only shakes his head and keeps on walking. He’s already so close to Harry’s building, but the journey there seems to take forever. 

“I just don’t think that you should go. What good could come up from that?” Louis sighs, but his steps aren’t as long anymore. 

“Why do you want to torture yourself? You know that you have to let go at some point, why would you meet someone’s parents if you know that?” Donna presses. She doesn’t have to run after Louis anymore as his steps have slowed down. He knows that Donna is making sense, what she says is true. Why does he do this to himself, or to Harry? 

“Louis, I know that you’re smart, but this isn’t your smartest moment,” Louis stops completely when the words have left Donna’s mouth. Slowly he turns back around. Donna wraps her arms around him, hugging him and rubbing her hands up and down his back. He hugs her back, his mind telling him not to go. 

“I think you should forget the man. Nothing good can come from that friendship of yours. Forget him before anything else happens,” Donna breathes into Louis’ ear. It makes Louis’ skin crawl, the words like icy daggers. He feels trapped in his mum’s arms, like he couldn’t move or do anything. Like he wouldn’t be capable of doing anything on his own. He lets go of Donna and backs away with a dubious look in his eyes. 

“Louis?” 

“You told me to be his friend. And now you’re saying that I should let go. Mum, this is me being his friend. He needs someone.” Louis has his hand over his heart, his serious eyes trying to get the message through. 

“What if he creates some other feelings towards you? What are you going to do then? Louis, you know what you need to do and you’re only trying to rebel against me,” Donna smiles sympathetically, her hand reaching towards Louis’ hand. But he doesn’t let her touch him. He shakes his head and turns back around, his feet picking up the pace again. 

“Louis!” Donna yells after him, the last letters breaking into a hopeless shriek. 

“I know what I’m doing!” Louis yells back, not giving his mum another glance. He knows that she isn’t following him. He can breathe freely again, feeling like he’s getting away from her power. He knows that he might be making a mistake, but he’s not backing away now. Everything’s fine. His and Harry’s friendship is fine. Harry knows that they’re only friends and that’s all what matters. 

 

Louis can see Harry standing next to a small car in front of his building. He’s doing something on his phone, his whole attention on the device in his hands. Louis thinks about scaring Harry, but his feet move faster than his brain and he is already too close to try any pranks. Harry lifts his sight from the screen of his phone and when his eyes land on Louis, a smile takes over his whole face. He beams at Louis and pockets his phone, waiting for him to walk the last few meters. 

“There you are! I almost got worried,” Harry smiles, leaning his hand against the roof of the car. 

“Yeah, sorry about that, I got a bit… distracted…” Louis tries to find the right words and when he sees Harry’s face scrunching with confusion and his eyes flooding with questions, he knows he has to direct the topic somewhere else. 

“What is this?” Louis exclaims and turns towards the car. He knows his attempt at being subtle has failed, but at the moment he doesn’t care. He needs Harry to forget the questions which are rolling in his mind. Harry turns his attention to the car, the bright red colour shiny under the spring sunshine. 

“Uhhh, a car,” Harry chuckles. 

“Is this your own?” Louis asks quickly, his eyes going back and forth between Harry and the vehicle. 

“Oh no, no it’s not. I rented it this morning. But isn’t it nice? It’s supposed to be very handy on the road, speeds up fast and everything,” Harry smiles proudly, the red from the car reflecting onto Harry’s face. 

“Cool!” Louis exclaims, his eyes drifting from the car to his mum who is standing on the other side of the street. 

“Should we get going?” Louis suggests hastily, seeing Donna’s disappointed expression. 

“Yeah, let’s go!” Harry smiles. Louis goes to the other side to sit on the passenger seat while Harry sits in to drive. They buckle up and Harry starts the car. Louis gives his mum one last look before they start driving away from the city. 

 

The journey goes quickly. The sun shines and eventually the inside of the car gets too hot. Louis opens the window and lets wind whip his and Harry’s hair. Harry plays the radio too loudly and sings along to songs Louis doesn’t know. After what seems like the hundredth song, Louis encourages himself to hum along and join Harry to sing the last chorus. He plays air drums and bops his head to the beat, Harry laughing loudly when Louis pretends to throw imaginary drum sticks in the air or do crazy drum solo. 

Louis feels free from his mother’s grasp. She’s not there telling him to do things only because she’s telling him to. She’s not tying him down. He feels like almost being alive, enjoying himself without the constant reminder that he’s on some strange mission. At times he even forgets this isn’t really real for him, that he’s not the same with Harry. That Harry is a real person when Louis is some trapped soul on earth. 

He still enjoys his time without the constant worry of being exposed. He also enjoys the laughs he shares with Harry and the sound of the music which whirls around them. He enjoys the little stories Harry tells about his old hometown. Where he hid some of his first CD:s and cigarettes. Where he used to go with his then friends. Where was his place when he wanted to be alone. The most random things are endearing to Louis, he can’t stop smiling. 

When he sees Harry telling about these little things, he can almost imagine himself being there with Harry. Smoking in secret and eating breath mints to hide the smell of smoke. Sitting on a cliff next to a railway and watching trains come and go. Listening to music in the early hours of the morning and falling asleep on the porch after a night out. Louis looks outside and imagines Harry in this place, trying to connect everything together. He leans his head against the headrest and closes his eyes with a content smile on his lips. 

 

“Louis?” Harry shakes Louis’ shoulder lightly, a low, mumbling sound coming out of Louis’ mouth. 

“Louis, wake up, we’re almost there,” Harry shakes Louis’ shoulder a bit harder. 

“What?” Louis’ voice isn’t that unclear anymore. He blinks his eyes open and sees his surroundings. The highway has turned into a quiet countryside, a single road with another lane leading them towards a small town. 

“We’re almost there,” Harry says once again, slowing down their speed. 

“I fell asleep…” Louis voices his thoughts. 

“Yeah, you did,” Harry answers even though Louis didn’t ask him. 

“I fell asleep…” Louis repeats, rubbing his palm over his face. 

“I know and I almost pulled over and wanted to take a nap too,” Harry chuckles. They reach the small town, a few people scattered around the streets. Louis stares at them from his window, watching how they go on with their life without the constant buzz of city life. The sunny sky has changed to grey clouds. It’s the same suffocating colour which Louis sees around his mum. 

“I fell…” Louis whispers to himself, but apparently still too loudly. 

“Yes, you did Louis, but it’s fine. It has been nice keeping myself company for the past hour and a half,” Harry bites back sarcastically. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep… Like that…” Louis rolls the words on his tongue, not understanding them properly. He blacked out, he fell asleep, which isn’t something that he does. He can’t fall asleep. 

“Don’t worry Louis, I might take a nap too when we get to my parents house,” Harry smiles warmly, driving them on the outskirts of the town. They get closer to a beautiful white house with a huge garden. Well maintained bushes work as a fence towards the main road. 

Harry is only getting closer to the pristine white house and Louis already knows that it has to be it. It doesn’t look like a place where Harry would’ve lived. He doesn’t look like some posh kid who comes from a home like this. Harry is Harry. A person who likes to write and make music. Walk on the streets at three in the morning. He likes to have his tea without sugar or milk. He’s a person who lives on his own terms, goes after his dreams, does what he wants to do. He doesn’t belong into this white house which clearly hides the biggest secrets inside its walls. 

Louis’ head is a mess. He’s in this world which doesn’t look like the world he belongs to. This isn’t a place where he’d want to be. This isn’t a place where he wants Harry to go. And he knows that something is happening. He can’t fall asleep and yet, he fell asleep for the first time in a few months. He’s not sure if it’s a sign or if he was just very tired. Maybe he can sleep for a couple of hours without there being any consequences. Right? 

 

Harry drives slowly. It seems like he doesn’t want to get closer to that house either. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, his shoulders get a little tenser. 

Flowers are blooming in their beds, the grass is freshly cut. Some birds are flying from their nests. They’re high up in the trees, which are growing on the yard. A sprinkler splashes water around lazily, small droplets landing on the green. 

A curtain moves behind the window downstairs. Louis bites his bottom lip so hard that he’s sure he’s going to bleed. Though, he’s not sure if he’s able to bleed. He knows that his heart isn’t pumping blood, but he’s not that pale either. He has to have some blood left inside of him. 

Harry parks the car and turns the engine off. He’s sitting silently on the driver’s seat, watching the house in the safe of the car. Louis can’t see anyone inside the house, no one is watching them from the windows anymore. 

Then the front door opens. Slowly, a woman in his forties walks out. She has wrapped her arms around her middle, wide eyes waiting for someone to step outside from the car. She’s standing on the porch, Harry is sitting in the car and no one is making a move. The woman’s hair moves lightly in the wind. She tilts her head when a few minutes have already passed. 

“Harry?” Louis asks quietly, not knowing what to do. Harry breathes out a long breath, psyching himself up to meet his family. Almost as if he wouldn’t have breathed for the whole time they’ve been standing in the yard. 

He opens his door, Louis repeating his movements and steps outside the car too. The woman doesn’t seem to notice him though, because her eyes are on Harry. She walks out towards him, her hands still wrapped tightly around herself. She takes tentative steps forward. Louis looks from her to Harry and for the first time ever he sees Harry being someone else. He’s not that young man from the city. He’s just young, vulnerable and ready to escape. He stands by the car, unmoving, while the woman approaches him. 

 

“It’s been so long that it’s almost hard to tell if it’s you,” the woman says, an incredulous smile on her lips. 

“Well, it’s me, mum,” Harry turns his eyes away from his mother, watching everything else than her. She stops in front of him, eyeing him carefully. 

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” she says, staring at her own son like he would’ve been missing. 

“It’s been almost six years, mum,” Harry answers silently, his eyes turning back to the woman before him. He has a hard look in his eyes, the connection between the two nothing like a mother and a son would share. 

Louis watches them like he wouldn’t even be there. He’s not even sure if they can see him, he’s only the third wheel. Harry’s mum keeps staring at Harry and making the same remark over and over. She’s not sure if Harry is her son, it’s been too long. But how can’t she recognise her own son? She is, after all, his mum and nothing can change that. How wouldn’t she recognise him? Louis can almost feel the wall, which Harry has built around himself, again. He’s not relaxed, on the contrary; he’s closed off and ready to leave even though they just arrived. He’s clearly not enthused to see his mum after a long time. She’s not someone who he wants to spend time with. 

After some time, Harry’s mum stops repeating herself. She only stares at Harry, while Harry is avoiding her eyes. 

 

“So, who’s this? Who did you bring with you?” Harry’s mum’s eyes snap from Harry to Louis, as if she would’ve kept an eye on Louis too, even though her attention was on Harry the whole time. She starts to approach Louis, her hands loosening up in front of her. She smiles warmly, but Louis feels cold inside. The woman doesn’t seem sincere, she looks like a person with millions of lies in her body, the truth ready to spill, but her mind protects her from everything that could jeopardize her. She reaches her hand out to Louis, and when Louis takes her hand into his and shakes it, her eyes drift to Harry. She’s not really there with Louis, she’s waiting for Harry to say something. 

“I’m Louis,” he decides to introduce himself to Harry’s mum when Harry doesn’t pay any attention to the scene happening on the other side of the car. 

“Hello Louis, I’m Margaret,” she says, turning her eyes towards Louis. She’s reluctant to take her attention off of Harry. She smiles which seems as fake as a banana trying to be a strawberry. She lets go of Louis’ hand, turning away, directing her words to Harry. 

“Should we go inside? The food is almost ready,” Margaret tilts her head slightly and when Harry gives her a small nod, her back gets a little straighter, she pulls her shoulders back and she holds her head a little higher. 

“Great! Follow me!” She enthuses. Harry walks after his mum, dragging his feet against the ground. Louis is the last one to go inside, watching the two and trying to figure out why they have such a cold relationship. 

 

Margaret orders them to take their shoes off and asks them to hang their coats to hangers. She leaves Louis and Harry to go somewhere, Louis can only guess she went into the kitchen. Louis doesn’t say anything to Harry, only watches him move like he’s not in this time or space anymore. His eyes are distant, his movements slow and heavy. His energy has been sucked from his body and an endless amount of exhaustion has been left in his body. 

Harry’s eyes drift from his jacket to Louis, who is trying to figure out how he’s going to approach the new situation he has been thrown into. Harry looks like he’d want to make sure everything’s fine, this is just his life. But there are no words coming out from his mouth. His eyes stay cloudy and sad, his shoulders slumped and his skin pale. Louis gives him a small smile, which makes Harry lift the corners of his lips upwards cheerlessly. He turns around and Louis follows him like a loyal puppy. 

 

“Harry! My son!” A man stands up from the dining room table. His hair is the same colour as Harry’s, only thinner and shorter. He looks genuinely happy to see his son, but he’s tentative around Harry. He’s handling Harry with silk gloves, patting his shoulder when he sees Harry’s reluctance to a hug. He lowers his voice when he sees Harry’s tired demeanour and his eyes grow warmer when he sees how lost Harry seems. 

“Hello, you must be Harry’s friend?” Harry’s dad reaches his hand out to Louis, which Louis shakes while nodding his head with a smile. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Harry’s dad, Dexter,” he smiles. Louis smiles back and wonders why Harry doesn’t like his family. He can see why Harry has a problem with his mum but his dad? Louis doesn’t know why Dexter would be the problem. Harry keeps his distance and watches anywhere else than his dad. 

“Well, sit down you two!” Dexter points his hand towards the chairs around the table. He pulls the chair next to his and gives Harry a nod. Louis watches on how Harry swallows thickly and awkwardly sits down, as far away from his dad as possible. Louis sits opposite them, smiling politely. He’s trying to figure out the relationship between the two. Dexter is smiling happily while Harry looks like he’s going to be executed. He has cast his eyes towards the table, his shoulders are slouched and his breathing is shallow. Dexter is reading the newspaper happily, humming contently as he finds something positive to his liking. 

Harry closes his eyes. His eyelashes press against his skin, a slow, deliberate breath raising his shoulders and lowering them down. 

“So, ummm… Can I call you Dexter?” Louis asks, trying to make simple conversation while they wait for Margaret. 

“Of course!” Dexter raises his eyes to Louis and smiles brightly. Louis smiles back and makes himself more comfortable on his chair. 

“How long have you lived in this house?” Louis smiles, wondering why he’s asking this kind of questions. It’s so noticeable how he’s only trying to make some conversation, not interested in the answers at all. Dexter doesn’t seem to mind though. 

“For many, many years already. Margaret!” Louis startles when Dexter calls for his wife. 

“What?” Margaret’s voice sounds from the kitchen. 

“Didn’t we move here before we had little Marie?” Dexter leans back on his chair, keeping Louis’ eye contact the whole time while he’s talking with his wife. 

“Yes!” Margaret answers, whisking something at the same time. 

“There you have it, we moved here before we had Marie,” Dexter nods and smiles. Harry’s shoulders tense with the name Marie being repeated over and over again. 

“How many years is that? I know that Marie is Harry’s sister, but…” Louis chuckles nervously, glancing at Harry. He looks like he’s going to be sick soon. 

“Well, it’s Marie’s birthday soon. Can you believe, she’s already turning 28!” Dexter claps his hands together, his eyes shine and his smile grows even fonder. 

“Over 28 years?” Louis confirms, Dexter nodding proudly at him. Louis nods back and sighs. He doesn’t know where he’d take the conversation next. And by the looks of it, Harry would want Louis to keep his mouth shut. What is wrong with him? These people seem completely fine.

 

“Aaaah! There she is!” Dexter’s booming voice laughs when Margaret brings in a bowl of green salad. She starts to smile, like she would’ve just met the love of her life. 

“Do you need any help?” Louis asks, already standing up. 

“Oh no, no, you can just sit here. I’ll bring the food soon. Though, Dexter, can you come and get the plates?” Margaret smiles, waving her hand in the air dismissively. Louis mutters “okay,” under his breath, when Margaret and Dexter are already going back into the kitchen. 

Louis clasps his hands together under the table. He hears Harry’s parents talking quietly, but doesn’t pay any attention to it. Until he sees Harry looking at Louis. He looks like he’s in pain, like someone would be stabbing his back. He bites his teeth forcefully together and breaths like he’s about to get a panic attack or some seizure. 

“I wish Marie would’ve come here,” Louis can hear Margaret say. 

“Me too,” Dexter accompanies her. 

“It seems like he didn’t want to come here. I can’t see my son in him,” Margaret continues, Dexter humming in agreement. 

“I don’t really understand why he even came here,” Margaret’s voice sounds like she’s in deep thought. 

 

“You invited him here, remember?” 

“Did I? I really can’t remember that? And that friend of his? What’s his name again?” 

“Louis,” Dexter fills the gap in Margaret’s mind. 

“Oh yes, Louis,” Margaret breathes out. 

“What do you think? What’s the deal with him?” Dexter asks. 

“I don’t know, he seems nice though. I just hope Harry doesn’t do the same thing he did with Dan,” Margaret sounds like she has gone back in time. She's living in a memory of something that made her look his son a bit differently. 

“Who was Dan again?” 

“You know, that boy from his school! Who Harry was obsessed with, invited him for dinners and sleepovers. I think Harry thought too much of him, that’s why he tried to come onto Dan,” Margaret says in a scandalous voice. 

“Oh! Dan was that guy!” 

“Did you know that Dan has a family now, wife and all?” 

“I think I heard something, but I just didn’t put two and two together…” Dexter whispers something else after that, but Louis doesn’t hear it. He looks at Harry who bows his head down and takes another deep breath. Louis doesn’t know what has happened, but for some reason he thinks that the things Harry’s mum and dad are saying aren’t exactly true. He’d want to ask Harry what they mean with all those things, what happened. But he doesn’t get a chance, when Margaret returns with Dexter. They’re carrying pots and bowls, Dexter placing the plates in front of everyone. Louis smiles politely, but doesn’t make the effort to look too pleased. Something is off with this family. 

 

Margaret sits down next to Louis, offering him salad, bread, fish, potatoes, sauce and all different kinds of little ingredients that go well with the dinner. Louis offers the food to Harry after himself, because apparently Margaret or Dexter aren’t going to do it. They talk about the weather while their son is sitting in the same table, defeated and clearly humiliated. He doesn’t say a word which makes Louis quiet too. 

Margaret clinks her fork against her glass and looks at the others around the table. 

“I want to say a quick word,” she stands up slowly, the glass of water in her hand. 

“Harry,” she smiles towards him. Harry lifts his eyes from his plate to his mum, not looking at her for long. 

“I’m so happy that you came here today, it’s been too long since we last saw you and you came to visit us,” Dexter places his hand on Harry’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. 

“Dig in!” Margaret gives a short laugh and sits down. They start to eat, Dexter giving a warm smile to Margaret. The room echoes with the sounds of forks and knives hitting against the plate. Louis keeps an eye on Harry, who isn’t really eating, only picking at his food. 

 

“So, Harry, how has it been going in the city?” Dexter asks, looking at everyone in the table before directing his eyes towards Harry. He stuffs his mouth full of bread while waiting for an answer. Slowly Harry looks towards his dad, taking a sip of water before answering. 

“Good, yeah, good. Did mum tell you my news?” Harry looks at his dad questioningly. 

“No?” 

“That’s why she invited me here, and I invited Louis. I got a recording deal this week and Louis has been helping me,” Harry’s eyes drift from his dad to his mum. She’s eating like she wouldn’t hear what Harry is even saying. Maybe she isn’t hearing him. 

“Is that right?” Dexter tilts his head, scrunching his brows. 

“Yes, dad.” 

“Well then! I’m happy for you! Do you remember this, Margaret?” Dexter turns towards his wife. Louis is watching the family interact as the outsider. Even though his name has been mentioned, he’s not there for these two people. Only Harry glances at Louis from time to time. 

Margaret lifts her eyes from her food and looks at her husband and son with blurry eyes. Like she would’ve been woken up from a deep sleep. 

“No? What did you say?” Margaret shakes her head, fixing a smile on her face. Harry sighs, going back to picking at his food. 

“Harry just said that he got a recording deal,” Dexter’s wide eyes are saying that he doesn’t believe what Harry is saying. 

“Oh…” Margaret falls into a deep thought, before her face lights up. 

“Oh yes! Now I remember, we talked about it before, didn’t we? On the phone?” 

“Yes, mum, we did,” Harry sighs, not bothering to look at his mum. 

“That’s great news!” Dexter laughs, clapping his hands together once again. He seems to like to do that. Louis thinks it’s a weird habit. 

“What does this mean now?” 

“Well, first I’m going to start making my own album, writing and such… Then hopefully release and tour for it,” Harry explains, his words a bit faster when he talks about a subject that is making him happy. Louis sees the glint in Harry’s eyes, the way his words roll from his tongue more effortlessly than before. Dexter nods his head and smiles widely. 

“And now you can start paying your own rent?” Dexter smiles, but the question takes Louis by surprise. He didn’t expect it. Neither did Harry. 

“What?” 

“Now you can start paying your own rent, because you have a job, right?” 

“I don’t get paid yet, because I haven’t released anything. The wheels are just starting to roll,” Harry’s perplexed emotion shines through his voice. Dexter narrows his eyes, nods and turns back to his food. Louis takes a bite off of a broccoli, watching the family under his brow. Something is going to happen, he can feel it. 

 

“Why can’t you get a normal job like everyone else?” Dexter sighs, turning his attention back to Harry. 

“Why can’t you have normal dreams? A career, a family, stability…” Dexter shakes his head, disappointment lacing his voice. Harry drops his fork and knife onto his plate and leans back on his chair.

“Just get a job that pays your rent and food. So we don’t have to do everything for you…” Dexter sighs, taking a sip of his water. Louis watches on how Harry bites his teeth together. It creates a strong line on his jaw. 

“Why can’t you be normal…” Dexter almost whines, like a little child. Harry stands up fast, startling everyone around the table. 

“Normal! You want me to be normal, dad! Okay, I’ll be like everyone else, live a life that I don’t want! Is that what you want? That I don’t have a say in what I want? And for the record, you don’t do anything for me. You only pay my rent, everything else is on me!” Harry breathes heavily. His eyes are raging, like a storm would be rising behind them. 

“Harry! Stop yelling at me!” Dexter stands up too, Margaret looking at the two while snapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth. 

“Why can’t I make my own decisions?” Harry throws his hands in the air. 

“You’ve been making your own decisions since you moved out and look where it has brought you. You have no money, no proper job… You didn’t even finish university!” 

“Because I didn’t want to be a lawyer like you wanted me to be!” 

 

“Harry, I know what you want and it’s not this…” Dexter waves his hands in the air, trying to find words. 

“This? You mean that I don’t want to be a musician after trying to pursue it since I was a child?” Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s not like he hasn’t heard this before, like he wouldn’t have fought about this before with his dad. But after all these years he still has to fight for the things he likes. 

“Listen to yourself! You’re not making any sense!” Harry shakes his head at his dad, rolling his eyes and turning away. He walks hastily towards the staircase. 

“Why can’t he be normal, like Marie was?” Dexter turns to Margaret, who has pressed her lips together into a thin line. She shrugs, turning towards the way Harry left. 

“You want me to be like Marie, dad?” Harry comes back, even more furious than before. Louis watches on, trying to decide what he should do. Should he leave these three and maybe go sit in the car? Or stay here? Follow Harry? 

Dexter doesn’t say anything. He only stares at Harry, disappointed and angry. 

 

“Marie hated it here, hated! Why do you think she left without a word? Did you really believe that she was happy here?” Harry’s words are like whips. Margaret’s mouth opens, Dexter’s eyes turn icy. 

“What did you say?” Margaret asks. 

“Mum, your favourite child ran away because she didn’t want to lie anymore. She left, because she didn’t want to be part of your lies. She left, because she hated to be a part of this family. And you know what? I don’t blame her, because I wanted to go with her.” 

Harry turns back around and runs upstairs. Louis doesn’t hear where he went; if he’s just sitting on the stairs or if he’s in some of the rooms. Margaret stares in front of her, collecting her napkin from her lap and scrunching it on her plate. She stands up without a word and goes somewhere silently. 

Dexter stands in his spot. He looks confused, like he wouldn’t understand a word Harry just said. He turns towards Louis, who is still sitting by the table. Dexter only stares at him, blinking his eyes, opening and closing his mouth. 

“I think I’m going to…” Louis nods his head towards the stairs, standing up slowly. Dexter gives him a single nod, still standing in his place even when Louis has already left. 

 

Louis climbs the stairs two at a time. When he reaches the top, he hears a piano being played quietly. He follows the sound behind a door in the farthest corner. He holds his hands up, ready to knock, but decides against it. Gently he opens the door, peeking his head inside. The room is white. There’s a single bed without a pillow or a duvet, no sheets covering the mattress. 

And then there’s Harry, hanging his head while he plays a giant black grand piano. Louis steps inside the room and sees that there’s nothing else other than the bed, the piano and Harry. Louis closes the door after himself and takes slow steps forward to sit on the bed. 

Harry keeps on playing, like Louis wouldn’t be there. He plays it over and over, no music sheets in front of him. He hangs his head, swaying with the music that flows from the instrument effortlessly. The sound is soft, like he’d be dreaming of Harry playing the piano. But there Harry is, clearly playing it, clearly knowing the song. Louis knows it too, but he can’t remember the name of it. He’s sure he never listened to it, but he can remember it, he has heard it somewhere earlier too. 

 

Harry plays beautifully, pouring his heart onto the keys. His fingers play the instrument like he wouldn’t have lived a day without touching the piano. The effortless sound makes Louis close his eyes and listen to every single note. 

Until Harry makes one single mistake and he slams his hands against the keys forcefully. Louis opens his eyes, a shiver running down his spine. Louis can hear him sigh, the room staying quiet for a moment. Then Harry starts again. Even softer than before, his fingers touch the keys lightly like feathers. 

Louis doesn’t know how his muscles start to move on their own, lifting him to his feet and carrying him to Harry. He sits next to Harry, who doesn’t stop playing the piano even when he moves to make space for Louis. Harry’s face is sad, his eyes half shut. He plays for a moment longer, until the soft sounds turns to no sounds at all. His fingers stay on the keys he’d play next. But there’s no sound. 

 

“I didn’t know you play the piano,” Louis says under his breath. He feels like talking doesn’t suit the moment. Maybe he should’ve stayed quiet. 

“Mum took me and Marie to classes when I was young,” Harry answers, starting to play again. 

“Before you started to play the guitar?” 

“I was four when mum took me to my first piano lesson. I liked it then. When I got older, mum didn’t want to hear me play anymore so I had to learn to play it quietly.” Harry explains. Louis isn’t sure if he still hears the piano, but he can see Harry’s fingers against the keys, so he must still be playing. 

“Why didn’t she want you to play it anymore?” Louis watches Harry’s fingers run against the keys. 

“Because she only wanted to hear Marie play the piano. Mum was always obsessed with hearing someone playing it and when I didn’t reach Marie’s level, mum didn’t want to hear me play it anymore. When Marie left, I wasn’t allowed to touch the piano.” 

Louis thinks about a young version of Harry. How he sits alone in his room, trying to play the piano as quietly as he can.

“Did you know that I got my first guitar from a music store owner?” Harry smiles at the memory, Louis shaking his head, wanting to hear more. 

“I used to go to this music store. They had a few guitars, but they weren’t for sale. I went there after school and used to listen to music and talk with the owner. When he had to sell the store, he gave me one of the guitars. I still have it here, but it’s quite beaten up. It’s filled with holes, it doesn’t sound right anymore,” Harry tells Louis quietly, moving onto the part which Louis likes. It’s soft and flows like a small stream. 

“You still remember this song?” Louis asks, trying to sound as soft as Harry does. 

“Marie taught me to play this. I even learnt to play it with my guitar, but it doesn’t sound the same.” 

Louis stays quiet. He listens to Harry play, the last few notes of lonely sounds filling the room. 

 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that… what happened downstairs,” Harry apologises. 

“I guess it was coming?” 

Harry chuckles, not missing a beat. 

“I’m sure you’re as important to them as Marie… is,” Louis tries to console Harry, but only gets a soft headshake as an answer. 

“I’ll never be as important to them as Marie is. I wasn’t planned, they didn’t want me in the first place. Marie practically raised me, because they didn’t see me as part of the family. I was the outsider, I still am,” Harry gives a hopeless chuckle, pulling his hands away from the keys mid-song. 

“Mum is not the one I hate, dad is. Mum has always tried to do her best even though she has her own troubles. Dad thinks he can act the same way as my mum. He thinks he can choose to leave me out, when my mum had no choice. She wasn’t ready to have me. She only saw Marie even when I was standing next to my sister.” 

Louis listens to Harry, understanding his family a bit better. 

“Whenever I call home, mum is the one who I talk with. Because we never spent time together, I don’t know how I can talk with her. I feel like this isn’t even my family. I’m a bit lost, familywise,” Harry glances at Louis from the corner of his eye. 

Harry stands up slowly, walking to the door. 

“Do you have your guitar here? I’d like to see it,” Louis follows Harry, but doesn’t stand up. 

“It’s not here, because this is Marie’s room,” Harry doesn’t turn towards Louis when he answers. He opens the door and goes somewhere. Louis follows him, closing the door after himself. Harry is already in the next room, he left the door a little ajar.

Louis gets inside, the room very different to Marie’s. The only thing he sees is boxes. They’re labelled with various names, like ‘summer clothes’ or ‘winter clothes’ or ‘Marie’s old school books’ or ‘sheets’. Louis walks further into the room, finding Harry sitting in one of the corners. Next to him is a brown guitar case. Harry looks up towards Louis, a blank expression on his face. He lifts the guitar case to his lap while Louis sits down next to him. He lays his legs flat against the floor, seeing how much shorter his legs are compared to Harry’s. 

In the case is a light brown guitar. It has clearly been played a lot, the wood filled with holes. One of the strings has snapped. The instrument also looks like it has gotten wet at some point. Louis touches a crack on the front of the guitar; the surface is rough under his fingers. 

“They didn’t want me to practice inside the house. So I played it at friend’s places or outside somewhere. I was sometimes caught in some very bad rainstorms, which wasn’t that good for the wood,” Harry closes the case gently, laying it next to his legs. 

 

“Who was Dan?” Louis asks, asking the question before thinking if it’s wise or not. 

“You caught that, huh,” Harry chuckles, leaning his head against the wall and looking at Louis. He smiles, not offended at all. Louis smiles back and leans his head to the wall too. Harry turns his eyes to the white ceiling, taking a breath in and blowing it out. 

“He was my first boyfriend. Well, first everything really. But he was in the closet so we had to pretend to be just close friends. My mum caught us kissing once and everything turned against me. Dan never came out and I moved to the city.” 

Harry casts his eyes down to his hands. He rubs the inside of his palm with his thumb. 

“Have you seen him ever again?” 

“Once. He was with his kids in the park. I wasn’t sure if it was him, at first, but then he saw me and… Yeah, I knew that it was him. We talked for a bit, he said that he’s happy. That’s all that matters,” Harry smiles, giving a reassuring look to Louis.

“Does your mum and dad know that… You’re gay?” Louis looks at Harry with a concerned look on his face. 

“Yeah, they do,” Harry chuckles. 

“They had guessed it even before I came out to them. They’ve always been cool about it, they just don’t know nothing about my relationships,” Harry shrugs. Louis nods understandingly. They settle for silence behind all the boxes. Louis feels like he’s in some sort of a fortress, his and Harry’s fortress. 

 

“I think we need to get going, what do you think?” Harry asks when the sun starts to set behind the window. 

“Sure,” Louis agrees. Louis takes Harry's hand into his, when Harry offers him help to stand up. They go downstairs and the first thing Louis sees is the dining room table. It has been cleaned up, a bouquet of fresh wild flowers set on the middle of the table. 

“Can you wait here? I need to go say bye to mum,” Harry asks, trying to see her, but to no avail. 

“Yeah, take your time, I’ll wait,” Louis stays to stand in the bottom of the stairs, while Harry goes to look for his mum. Louis hears the back door opening and closing. He doesn’t see Dexter anywhere, curiosity taking over Louis. He tiptoes towards the kitchen, seeing the door to the backyard. Margaret is sitting on one of the chairs, Harry kneeling in front of her. He’s holding her hand, an apologetic look on his face. Louis walks closer, staying behind the fridge to hide himself. 

“… It just came out of my mouth and I’m sorry, mum. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Harry talks quietly. 

“Did she really leave because she hated it here?” Margaret’s voice sounds broken. Harry bends his head down and when he lifts his eyes to his mum again, he has sorrow in them. He only nods, which makes Margaret take a deep breath, which shakes her shoulders. 

“Did you know she was leaving?” 

“She told me about it, but she never told me where she was going,” Harry confirms to his mum. 

“Did you talk with her before she left?” Harry shakes his head at that question. 

“Have you heard from her?” 

“Not for a while, no,” Harry tells her. 

 

“I’m sorry, Harry, that I’ve been a bad mum to you, I should’ve taken better care of you,” Margaret says, caressing her hand against Harry’s cheek. 

“He’s a good boy you know,” Dexter’s voice says behind Louis, which startles him. Louis turns towards him, seeing him walking closer. 

“Or, I guess, a man now,” Dexter looks tired. Louis looks back towards the mother and son on the porch. 

“I always knew that I’m not the best dad for him, that I should’ve been there for him more. He has always been special and I want nothing more. He’s my son after all.” 

Louis turns his eyes to Dexter, who is holding a mug in his hand. He takes a sip from it, while watching his family outside. 

“Why can’t you tell him that?” Louis asks, wondering why he was first introduced to something that clearly wasn’t the true Dexter. 

“Because he hates me, I know he does.” 

“You don’t have to give him more reasons to hate you, you can turn it around,” Louis tells him, hearing how Harry is still talking with Margaret. Suddenly Harry’s eyes catch Louis, like he would’ve known all along that Louis is watching him and Margaret. He gives Louis a small, calm smile, before he gives his mum his full attention. Louis casts his eyes towards the floor, warmth spreading through his chest. 

“If there’s something going on between the two of you, please take good care of him, he deserves it,” Dexter says, watching Louis closely. 

“Well, we’re only friends, but I promise to be a good friend for him,” Louis smiles at Dexter, who nods and gives Louis’ shoulder a squeeze. 

“Drive safely back to the city,” Dexter says before he turns around and leaves Louis alone. Louis turns back towards Harry and his mum. They’re hugging, Margaret standing up and saying something into Harry’s ear. Harry’s eyes move to Louis, a smile spreading to his lips. Louis watches them, realising they’ll be coming inside soon. Louis walks away, back to the bottom of the stairs where he was supposed to wait. 

 

Harry and Margaret come inside almost right after Louis has gone back to where he was meant to be. He smiles at the two, leading them outside. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you Louis, hopefully we’ll meet again,” Margaret smiles weakly, her eyes tired and sad. 

“You too,” Louis says, offering her his hand to shake. She looks down at it and back to Louis’ eyes, approaching him with open arms. She hugs him gently, holding her hand against Louis’ neck. She strokes his hair, closing her eyes and then letting go. She smiles and looks towards Harry. 

“I’ll call you soon,” she says to him, wrapping her hands around herself like when they arrived. Then Louis realises it; she’s hugging herself, keeping herself together. 

“I’ll see you soon, mum,” Harry says to her. He starts to walk towards the car. Louis says a soft bye to Margaret, following Harry and sitting in the car next to him. Margaret waves at them, watching how Harry drives away. 

 

The sun has almost settled under the horizon. The sky is deep purple, almost dark blue. Some clouds are scattered here and there, but the night is going to be clear. Harry and Louis drive in silence. Louis leans his head against the window, recognising something similar in the scene he’s seeing in front of them. 

“What did my dad say to you?” Harry asks after an hour of driving in silence. Louis already knows what he’s meaning. 

“That you’re quite special and he wouldn’t change anything about you,” Louis says, not daring to look at Harry. He doesn’t get an answer back either. Harry stays completely silent, thinking about the afternoon’s events. 

 

Harry turns the radio on, sick and tired of the silence. He starts to hum with the song that is playing. He sings some of the lyrics, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He clearly knows some of the lyrics, settling with humming along when he loses the words again. Louis doesn’t mind listening to Harry’s voice, it soothes him, calming his nerves. 

The flashing lights of the cars, which drive by, bring up something Louis has long ago forgotten. A sharp pain surges through him every time a car drives past them. First it’s bearable, but the more cars drive by, the more uncomfortable the feeling turns. Louis adjusts his seat, maybe it’s in the way he’s sitting. When it doesn’t help, he tries to relax his whole body against the seat. It only makes the feeling worse. Harry turns the music louder, singing a bit more along with the chorus. Harry turns towards Louis, singing from the top of his lungs when there’s a humming part in the song. Louis smiles through the pain he’s feeling in his legs and stomach, even though he’d want to cry. 

 

A song Harry knows comes on. He turns the volume louder, singing along with all the words. Louis can only see the cars driving past, the bright lights taking him to a different time. 

“Please mum, please slow down,” Louis can hear himself say, though he’s not saying it now. He can see different hands holding the steering wheel, but when he looks up, he sees Harry. Louis’ hands moves instinctively to hold the door handle, his nails digging into his palm. He hears Harry singing loudly, knowing every lyric to the song. 

“I’m so sorry Louis,” he can hear his mum say in the distance. It’s more like an echo in his head. A memory. The pain in his stomach and legs becomes agonizing, his heart starting to beat erratically. He can feel blood pumping in his veins, almost like it’s ready to escape his body. The cars, that pass him and Harry, seem to blur into one stream of light, which blinds Louis. 

“Harry, can you pull over?” Louis asks weakly. Harry can’t hear it though, because he’s singing so loudly. His voice fills the car, the radio yelling the song back to him. 

“Harry! Please! Please, pull over!” Louis yells, which Harry thinks is Louis singing along. Harry laughs, singing even louder, almost yelling the lyrics. 

Louis can only see white, the crushing pain making his head hurt. He’s pretty sure he’s bleeding somewhere, but he doesn’t know where. He can’t see anything. His heart feels like it’s going to hammer its way through Louis’ chest. He’s holding onto the door for his dear life, flashes of his death playing on repeat in his head. He can see the truck coming closer and the car spinning. He doesn’t know which is true life and which is not, which scene he can trust and which not. Harry’s still singing, which mixes with Louis’ mum screaming. He can hear everything extremely loud, like he’d be in a room filled with noise that isn’t going to stop. 

“Harry! Stop the car!” Louis yells, shutting his eyes and feeling his body being ripped apart. Harry turns his attention to Louis, turning the music down. 

“Louis? You okay?” 

“Stop the car now!” Louis only yells, still hearing everything too loudly. Harry slows their speed, trying to find a place to pull over. 

“Stop the car, please!” Louis begs, knowing that his shrill voice is making Harry panic. 

“I don’t know where, there’s no…” Harry breathes frantically, trying to find a spot in the dark. 

“Stop the car!” Louis yells, a new kind of pain going through his body. It literally pulls his limbs off him, an explosion sounding in his head. Louis closes his eyes tighter, trying to make it all go away. 

“Stop the car!” Louis’ eyes shoot open, his hands flying towards the steering wheel. Harry yells in panic, holding on and forcing them to stay on the road. Louis feels like he’s going to throw up his insides soon if they’re not going to stop. 

“Stop the car!” He yells again, trying to make Harry turn them off the road. Harry fights him off, pushing Louis off him. Louis can feel his body being ripped into small pieces, being blinded by white light. 

 

Harry finds a place on the side of the road, parking the car and turning it off with the lights on. Louis opens the door, storming out onto a field which spreads out on Louis’ side of the car. He can’t stop his feet from running, he has to get away from the pain and the white light he sees in his eyes. They follow him like ghosts, which he doesn’t want to meet. 

He can hear Harry yelling after him, maybe even running after him. But Louis is too fast. He keeps on running, before he feels something rising in his throat. He bends over and heaves up sick from his stomach. He can’t stop vomiting, but it eases the pain.

Louis can hear Harry’s calls turning into an echo. They aren’t as terrified as before, more confused. Louis stands up slowly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He looks towards the way he ran from and just now sees that there’s something odd. The white light is going away and turning into darkness. It suck every colour around itself, everything turning to black and white. He can see Harry standing next to his car, the beams of light illuminating him. He’s yelling from far away, like he’s behind a smoky curtain. Louis walks closer, but it seems like Harry can’t see him. He’s still yelling Louis’ name even though Louis is now standing right in front of him. Harry’s face tells he’s scared of what is going on. He doesn’t know where to look for Louis, what to do to find him. 

“Louis!” Harry yells one last time, bending over with the sound that escapes from his body. 

“Harry,” Louis answers, trying to touch him. But his hand goes right through Harry’s shoulder, not grasping onto anything. Louis looks at his hands, which glow white light in the darkness. He can see through his hands, even though he can hold onto his own skin and feel his hands touching each other. But he can’t touch Harry. 

 

“Louis?” he can hear his mum call. Louis turns around, seeing her calm face and glowing appearance. 

“What’s happening?” Louis questions, turning back towards Harry. 

“I’ll explain it to you, but you have to leave him. He can still feel your presence. When we leave him alone, he’ll leave,” Donna advices, taking Louis’ hand into hers. He wouldn’t want to leave Harry like this, when he doesn’t know what is happening. Harry looks so lost, like it’s his fault Louis disappeared. 

But Donna is right. If Louis doesn’t go now, Harry is going to stand there for a long time. The nights are still cold, Louis doesn’t want Harry to get sick or hurt by the side of the highway. 

“Come on, Louis, let’s go,” Donna pulls Louis gently by his hand. She doesn’t leave him any options, so Louis stumbles after her, his eyes still on Harry, who is leaning to his knees, trying to figure out where he’s going to find Louis. 

 

\- - 

 

Harry opens the door to the familiar, dim, smoky bar. He doesn’t feel like he belongs in there anymore. He hasn’t been here for a long time, he already thought he wouldn’t return. But now… He’s alone again and he can’t even explain why he’s alone. What happened? 

“He-heeey!” Harry sees Liam standing behind the counter, drying some glasses with a white cotton towel. He smiles like a friend to another friend. Harry thought he wouldn’t meet Liam in this environment anymore. That he wouldn’t recognise Liam as someone who is going to give him a drink. That Liam would actually be a friend, not a person who knows what Harry prefers to drink. 

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you here for a long time, thought you had moved away or found a new bar to hang out in,” Liam chuckles, watching Harry drag his feet towards the counter and sitting on one of the bar stools. 

“Long time no see and all that,” Harry says mirthlessly. Liam places a glass from his hands onto the counter, right in front of Harry. He smiles, those teddy bear eyes warm like caramel. Liam is expecting Harry to order, but Harry doesn’t know if he should. He’s gotten rid of alcohol, he doesn’t miss being so drunk that he forgot his own name. 

“What can I get you?” Liam finally asks, when Harry has sat on the chair without saying anything for a few moments. 

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Harry says and meets Liam’s gaze. He smiles understandingly, taking the glass back and handing Harry a bottle of water. 

“Thanks,” Harry smiles weakly, opening the bottle and taking a sip. 

 

“So… How are you?” Liam leans against the counter. The bar is almost empty, which is weird for a Saturday evening. There’s only a few other people, sitting on their own, avoiding contact with others. 

“A lot has happened,” Harry begins, thinking about everything that has actually happened. It’s been months since he last sat here and things have changed. 

“I can see that, you don’t look the same anymore,” Liam taps his fingers against the table along with the music, which plays softly in the background. Harry hasn’t heard the song in a long time, even though he likes it. 

“Has something happened? Did you get rejected again?” Liam asks, when Harry doesn’t say anything to him. Harry closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly. 

“Well, no, not by a recording company at least,” Harry explains, opening his eyes to stare at the water bottle in his hands. 

“What?” 

“I got it,” Harry says nonchalantly, like the whole meaning to that phrase would be gone. 

“You got a recording deal?” Liam stands up, his mouth open and eyes wide. 

“Harry! That’s huge news! When?” 

“This week, I’m under the same label as Niall Horan,” Harry looks up to see Liam freaking out. His eyes are almost bulging out of his head. 

“Niall Hor… Harry! We need to celebrate!” Liam jumps on his spot a couple of times, earning a laugh from Harry. 

“Drinks to everyone!” Liam exclaims, the few other customers more bothered, than enthused, by the news. 

“You don’t have to, Liam,” Harry tries to calm him down, but is silenced with a disapproving look from Liam. He picks up a tray and sets a few glasses on top of it. He pours something into them, Harry can smell the alcohol even from his place. 

 

“Why aren’t you happy?” Liam stops pouring the drinks and concentrates more on Harry. 

“I…” Harry shakes his head, not sure of what he’s about to say. Liam waits, which forces Harry to say what he was about to say. 

“I didn’t get to celebrate the news with the person who I wanted to celebrate it with,” Harry puffs the words out, embarrassed by them. 

“Is it the same guy who helped you home? What was his name again, Louis?”

“Yup, that’s him,” the image of Louis running onto the black field and disappearing replays in Harry’s mind. Where did he go? What happened to him? Everything was going on so well, nothing was wrong. And then, out of nowhere, everything changed. 

“Why didn’t you celebrate it with him?” Liam asks curiously. 

“He disappeared,” Harry answers truthfully. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

“Maybe he had a good reason?” 

“Guess so,” Harry sighs, watching the water bottle in his hands. He came to a bar to drink water. It’s almost silly how he thought this could be a good place to go. Of course he saw Liam again, which is always nice. But he doesn’t want to feel like a recovering addict. The water bottle starts to burn between his palms. Like it’d burn away all his sins, but he’s not ready to let them go. 

“Let’s celebrate then, give me the usual,” Harry says confidently, an unknown pang of guilt hitting his chest. He hasn’t missed drinking. But why should he stop now? There’s no one telling him no, no one was ever there to tell him to stop. And Louis certainly isn’t here, why should he feel guilty? He can do whatever he wants, and now, Harry wants to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 7
> 
> Library Tapes / Waves  
> Andreas Mattsson / Outro 3  
> Sigur Ros / Var  
> Isaac Gracie / Terrified  
> Halsey / Haunting  
> Zola Jesus / Lick The Palm Of The Burning Hand  
> The Big Pink / Velvet  
> Frederico Albanese / Beyond the Milk Wood  
> Half Moon Run / Throes  
> Beyoncé / Pray You Catch Me  
> Kings of Leon / Wait For Me  
> Patric Watson / Great Escape

“I said it’d be a bad idea,” Donna says. She’s standing next to Louis. They watch Harry, who slowly walks back into the car and leaves. Louis would want to go back, yell him to stop and wait. But he knows he can’t, Harry can’t see him like this. He’s not allowed. 

“This has nothing to do with me meeting his parents,” Louis defends himself, turning away from the highway and walking further onto the field. He knows this place now. He knows he’s getting closer to the spot where it all happened. He can feel a white wave coming closer at him, bringing pain and relief at the same time. He can see bits and pieces from the night when everything ended for him. They flash to his mind. The moment when the truck hit the car. The moment when the car spun off the road. The moment when it all turned black. The moment when he felt the pain. The moment when he felt the heat. The moment when he saw the flames and smelled the gasoline. The moment when it all ended. 

Louis knows his mum is following him. This has to end, he can’t take it any longer. He hates that he can’t feel any real emotions while being in this space between life and death. He’s angry at his mother, but as soon as the emotion hits him, it disappears. He knows that Donna is the reason why he’s feeling this way too, but also because he has wings on his back. They prevent him from feeling like a human. And he hates it. 

 

“But you know it was a bad decision and I was right,” Donna presses on, her voice much closer than Louis expected. Louis stops walking. He’s standing right there where he passed. He can almost see himself lying on the ground, he’s definitely feeling everything from that night. He wants to take his mind off it so he turns his eyes towards the sky, which is littered with bright stars. Have they always been this bright? 

“Louis, you have to understand this is not going to last. You have to start letting go. Your work here is done,” Donna says, placing her hand on Louis’ shoulder. He shudders at the feel of her hand, it sends icy shocks through his body. It doesn’t feel natural. He’s not used to it anymore. He’s used to having someone else’s hand on his shoulder, even though it doesn’t happen that often. 

“Shhhh,” Louis hisses, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in. The air doesn’t feel like he’d need it. Nothing feels the same now. 

“We need to talk about this,” Donna squeezes Louis’ shoulder. 

“Not now, mum,” Louis bites his teeth together, annoyed that she’s here. 

“I’m not going to let it go because you’re having feelings for that man,” she’s starting to get annoyed as well. Her words bring Louis back to this moment. Feelings? For Harry? 

“You’ve understood it wrong,” Louis says calmly, even though he knows he should have a storm inside of him. 

“What part?” Donna asks innocently. Louis turns his eyes to his mum. He can see the grey cloud around her even clearer now when he’s an angel too. 

“I don’t have any feelings for Harry,” Louis states, pressing the word don’t. 

 

“Is that so? Because I think that’s utter bullshit,” Donna says. It’s weird for Louis to hear her curse, she has never cursed around him. 

“You don’t know anything about me and Harry’s friendship, so let it go,” Louis turns his back towards her, starting to walk away from Donna again. She’s right on his track. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“You should.” 

“I can’t!” 

“Why?” Louis turns around towards his mum, who crashes to him. 

“Because you were meant to fall for each other,” she says, a flash of regret in her eyes. They widen up while she’s looking at Louis. She’s breathing heavily even though Louis knows she wouldn’t need to. 

“What?” His expression goes blank. The only word going through Louis’ mind is; what? 

“Forget that part. The important thing is that you need to move on, prepare yourself for what’s next,” Donna turns away, not daring to look Louis in the eye. 

“No, no, no. Go back. We were what?” Louis pulls his mum’s arm to turn her around, but she’s still avoiding his gaze. 

“Let’s not concentrate on that, it’s not important,” she swallows thickly. 

“I think it’s pretty fucking important!” Louis demands, forcing her to look at him. But she holds onto the wrong thing. 

“Don’t you dare curse at me, Louis.” 

“You were cursing at me!” Louis yells back, not taking it any longer. He turns around, stomping away. Surprisingly Donna isn’t following. 

 

He walks for a long while, reaching the other side of the field. He looks back, seeing Donna walking behind him, but slowly, trying not to make any sounds. 

“Why do you follow me?” Louis asks exasperatedly. Donna stops, watching her son. Her wings look dull, the shape defeated. The grey cloud around her has partly vanished. Louis knows she’s not going to answer. She’s not going to answer any of his questions. 

“Go away, mum,” Louis really wants to be alone. He can’t stop thinking about Harry; how he left Harry standing by the highway with no explanation. Louis can’t stop thinking back to the moments he has spent together with Harry. His afterlife has mainly been revolving around Harry these past months and now, when he’d need to start letting go, he is facing the fact that he can’t. 

Louis knows that he has been feeling some way towards Harry, but he can’t explain that feeling. He’s very happy around him and at the same time, extremely miserable. He knows he has seen something in Harry’s eyes, some sort of hope, but Louis can’t stop thinking if Harry has been feeling hopeful just because he has been around. Harry has certainly changed while he has been with Louis, but of course Louis can’t put himself up on some pedestal for changing Harry. No. Harry has changed himself. But what if he loses that encouragement, which Louis has offered him? What if that has been part of the change? Will Harry lose the hope from his eyes? Will he lose everything? 

 

“I can’t go away,” Donna says weakly. 

“Why not? You’re always following me around and just this one time, when I really want you gone, you can’t make the effort to leave?” 

“It’s not that simple,” she wails. 

“Then explain it to me!” Louis pushes Harry from his mind and focuses on his mum. At this moment he wishes he could just disappear for good. He doesn’t want to see his mum anymore, she has become unbearable. 

“I… I don’t know where to start.” 

“Try!” 

She walks closer, but stays far enough to give Louis space. He’s thankful for that. 

“I can’t leave because…” 

“Just say it, mum!” 

“Because I have to watch you,” she says, casting her eyes towards the ground. 

“Watch me?” 

“That you do what you’re meant to do,” she says nervously. 

“What was I meant to do then?” Louis questions, already thinking about the possible answer. If it’s the correct one, he’s going to hate Donna forever. 

 

She looks up, tilting her head in sorrow. Louis clenches his jaw, fighting back a burn in the back of his throat. He feels like he’d want to cry. Scream at her for doing this to him, to her own son. 

“Just tell me,” he feels so disappointed. She’s not opening her mouth. 

“Tell me!” 

“You were meant to make Harry fall for you, to show him what love could be like. And when he would’ve realized that things have changed in himself…” 

“I’m meant to go,” Louis finishes her sentence. 

“Do you even know how fucked up that is?” He yells, watching his mum crumble in front of him. 

“I know, and I’m sorry, Louis, I’m sorry,” she cries, no tears streaming from her eyes. 

“Don’t! Just stop talking!” Louis yells at her, his voice breaking while he listens to her dry sobs. It’s the only sound on the dark field, where the stars are their only light.

 

Louis takes a deep breath. Now he knows. Things have already changed. Harry has changed, hell, even he himself has changed. Louis knows that the weird feeling he’s having, the one that spreads around his body every time he’s in a situation which involved adrenaline, a beating heart and blood that can course through his veins, is something more than just a weird feeling. He thought he had that feeling with Jeremy. He thought he had already felt it. But it’s nothing like that. 

He thought he had felt love. But it seems apparent that he also taught himself what love is like. He can’t say that Harry has fallen for him, even though he knows Harry has been feeling happier. But that doesn’t mean anything. Louis can’t deny his feelings though. He can’t feel it right now, not when he’s just some angel who has come back to earth. Not even then when he’s walking amongst people. Only when he’s meant to be a guardian angel for someone. And that someone is Harry. 

 

“I want you to tell me everything,” Louis demands, forcing himself to look at Donna. She has calmed herself down, spreading sadness around herself instead of that blinding grey cloud which makes everything bland. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Like I said, everything, I want to know everything from the start.” 

Donna holds her breath, before she puffs it out. 

 

“I saw Harry before you did. I followed him around, seeing that something was wrong. I don’t know what attracted my attention to him, but I knew he had to be helped. The problem was that I didn’t have time. I was already keeping my eye on your dad,” she begins. She turns around, starting to walk towards the highway which is far away. Louis follows her silently, walking next to her, watching the stars above him. 

“I heard him speaking on the phone with someone. He looked like someone was draining life out of him. It happened a couple of times more and every time he was miserable. Then I found out he was talking with his mum. I don’t know, I felt such a strong connection to him, I wanted him to feel good. I wanted him to be happy, I wanted to be like a mum to him because I had already failed with you.” 

“What do you mean you failed with me?” Louis asks, not understanding where she had gone wrong with him. The only thing he can remember are the fights she had with his dad, but other than that, Louis thinks he had quite a good home to grow up in. 

“I knew you weren’t doing anything, you had to follow me because you didn’t know what else to do,” she ignores Louis’ question. Louis throws his hands in the air, letting it go for now. 

“That’s when I realized I could let you watch over him. That’s also why I sent you to that bar to meet him,” she glances at Louis quickly, watching how he’s reacting. When he’s listening to her calmly, she goes on. 

“I felt that Harry was very lonely, he must’ve been alone from a young age already. He looked like no one had ever loved him the way he deserved to be loved. I thought you could show him good things in life, make it possible for him to find happiness and maybe love someday. But I never thought he’d develop feelings for you, I never thought you’d…” She shakes her head slowly. 

“How do you know he has feelings for me?” 

“Anyone who has been in love can see it,” she simply says, stopping on the spot where the accident happened. Louis wouldn’t want to stand there, but he doesn’t have a choice. 

 

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” Donna says, turning to Louis. She looks fragile, not like the angel she usually is, but like someone else. She looks like a human, who is in great pain. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I never meant to drive the car that way, Louis,” she starts to cry again, this time real tears falling from her eyes. Louis shakes his head, not understanding a word she’s saying. 

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did, I never meant to take your life with mine,” she kneels down, rocking herself back and forth with her head in her hands. 

“I don’t understand…” Louis mutters, crouching down to touch his mum’s shoulder. She looks up with teary eyes. 

“I never meant to kill you, only myself,” she says, breaking apart with the words. Almost like an electric shock goes through her, forcing Louis to pull his hand back. He stands up, watching his mum. 

“Are you saying..?” Louis can’t put it all together. It can’t be…

“I’m so sorry Louis,” she sobs, while Louis is looking around himself. This is where it happened and he can see Donna’s face when they were driving. She was saying that she can’t take it anymore. Louis can hear her voice echoing in his head. She was apologizing. And then it happened, then she lost the control of the car. Slowly Louis turns to his mum, who is looking up at him. Her sadness turns to shock, as if she thought Louis already knew the truth. 

“You did it on purpose,” Louis whispers, the pain all over his body hitting him hard. He feels like someone is ripping his insides out through his throat, taking all he has. His thoughts, his voice, even his body. Louis takes a deep breath, disgusted by the way his mum looks at him. He turns away and starts to walk towards the highway. 

“Louis! I was going to stop the car! It was an accident!” She yells after him, but he can only hear white noise in his ears. He can’t look at his mum, he can’t decide what to feel. She was the reason why he died. She was going to kill herself, but took his life as well. She was going to leave Louis and his dad alone because she thought it’d be for the best. 

Louis can hear her cries through the ringing in his ears. He wouldn’t want to hear it’ it reminds him too much of the moment after the crash. 

He can hear her scream which blended with his screams under the same stars which look down on him right at this moment. 

 

\- - - -

 

It takes forever for Louis to walk back into the city. When he finds himself from the outskirts of the buzzing city, he realizes he has nowhere to go. He can’t go see his dad; his mum is going to be there and she is the last person Louis wants to see right now. 

And then there is Harry who Louis is afraid to face. How can he look Harry in the eye and say nothing happened, that everything’s like before. Even Louis knows that Harry’s never going to swallow those things. He must be confused and wondering what happened to Louis. It’s not normal for someone to just disappear into thin air. 

But here he is, standing in front of Harry’s building. He’s looking up to see Harry’s windows. A light is on, it’s not a bright light, but Louis can see it clearly in the dark night. He can’t see anyone in the window, but Harry must be home. He wouldn’t have left any lights on if he wasn’t there. 

In some way Louis wishes Harry would come to the window and see Louis. Maybe invite him in and they could talk. Maybe Louis could tell Harry something, which is more believable than just “everything’s okay”. When Louis thinks about the possibility of Harry seeing him right now, his mind goes blank. Louis wouldn’t know what to tell Harry. How would he explain everything? 

Since the beginning, Louis promised to be honest with Harry. He has always hated keeping big secrets and lying about them. Little white lies were never a problem, but this is not a white lie. This is a huge thing, this is who Louis is now. And he hates the fact he can’t tell Harry about it. 

Except… That feels like the right thing to do. Tell Harry the truth. Louis doesn’t know how Harry will take it; if he’ll laugh to Louis’ face, be angry, not believe it, be extremely interested or even ask Louis to show what it’s like. Louis can’t tell how Harry will react and it makes everything thousand times scarier. 

 

The light switches off in Harry’s apartment. The street is quiet. Louis can’t stop staring up at Harry’s windows, imagining what it’d be like at Harry’s right now. Harry must’ve gone to bed and fallen asleep quickly like he always does. Louis would be lying next to him, listening to Harry breath. He’d be feeling almost tired, but he wouldn’t fall asleep. He’d only close his eyes and dream about sleeping. Dream about being a living person. Dream about a real life where he wouldn’t have to hide or lie. 

The truth seems like the right path. Louis is worried, not only because his secret will be out. But because he might lose Harry and only because Louis has been trying to protect him. He might lose Harry and only dream about the things he could’ve done with Harry, if he was still alive and feeling his emotions the way they should be felt. 

 

\- -

 

The street is busy with people. Some look more professional, some look like they’re on a holiday. Louis can’t focus on them though, because his eyes are on the windows of Harry’s apartment. He has seen Harry moving inside, but he hasn’t come to the window. 

It’s already late, almost one o’clock in the afternoon. Louis has been waiting outside Harry’s building since last night and he thought Harry would be going somewhere today. Apparently that’s not the case. He hasn’t been able to psyche himself up to go and ring Harry’s buzzer. He’s waiting outside, expecting Harry to see him standing on the pavement. 

Louis’ hands are itching with nerves. He’s really going to tell Harry everything. Harry just needs to see Louis. 

 

Time goes by slowly. Louis feels like he’s going to escape his skin soon if he’s not able to move forward with his plan. He has been going through a speech in his head over and over, trying to decide what he should tell Harry so he wouldn’t sound completely insane. 

“Harry, I need to tell you something,” Louis whispers to himself, seeing a curtain move behind Harry’s window. He can feel his muscles tighten, but when he can’t see anyone in the window, Louis relaxes again. 

“There’s this thing… No… Harry, I haven’t been completely honest with you about myself… No… Harry, I want you to know something about me and I know it’s not going to make any sense, but I hope you’ll understand me… No… Harry, I need to tell you a thing about myself. A thing that’s not completely normal, but it’s possible, I guess. I’m an…” Louis talks quietly to himself, when he sees the curtain moving again.   
Harry stands behind the window, opening one of the drapes. He looks down towards the street and freezes when something catches his eye. 

Louis waves him hello, not receiving one back. Louis kind of expected that. He signs towards the building door, while Harry watches on without a motion. Louis thinks he’s watching a statue, he’s not even sure if Harry is going to come and open the door for Louis. 

He has to be brave now. Louis jogs on the other side of the street and the steps up. He rings the buzzer and waits. No one answers. Louis rings it again, this time the door opens with a steady buzz. 

He starts to climb the stairs up, feeling the tingling feeling of nerves spreading inside his body. Something moves inside of his chest and he can recognize his heart’s steady beat getting stronger. His blood starts to circulate in his veins, his breathing becomes irrational. Louis thinks he’s going to pass out soon if he keeps on going. He holds onto the railing with both of his hands, steadying his pace for a moment. When he’s sure he can continue, he keeps on climbing the stairs. His palms start to sweat and his mind keeps telling him to turn around. He can’t stop now though. 

 

Harry hasn’t opened the door yet, when Louis reaches his floor. Quietly Louis clears his throat, stopping for just a second. Behind that door everything’s going to be revealed and Louis is terrified of the outcome that could be waiting for him. He can feel cold sweat beading on the back of his neck, running under his dark blue sweater and making him shiver whilst feeling too hot. 

Louis wouldn’t want to knock on Harry’s door and be let inside. He’d want to run back downstairs and just leave. But he’s already walking forward, towards Harry’s door and he can feel the knots in his head. He’s sure he’ll remember his shitty piece of speech as soon as he sees Harry. Suddenly he’s already behind Harry’s door and he has to knock. 

He taps the door lightly, taking an agonizing breath in. He can’t hear any noise behind the door so he knocks on it again. Still nothing. Louis’ brows furrow together, he’s sure he saw Harry and Harry buzzed him inside the building. Why would he let Louis inside if he wasn’t going to open his apartment door? 

Louis knocks the door for the third time and after a moment the door opens. Louis isn’t welcomed by Harry’s face. He’s not welcomed by anything. Louis watches the door which is left ajar, for Louis to open. He takes a hold of the handle and opens the door cautiously. He doesn’t see anyone waiting for him, only a quiet apartment. It’s almost like no one isn’t home. 

“Harry?” Louis asks, his voice breaking. He clears his throat, ready to call for Harry again. 

“I’m here,” he can hear Harry’s hoarse voice from the living room. He sounds like he’s had a rough night. 

 

Louis steps inside and closes the door after himself. He takes off his shoes and black jacket, hanging it on the hanger. He wipes his hands to his jeans, walking forward into the apartment.

Harry is sitting on the couch. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and joggers, clearly just woken up. He has an emotionless look on his face. He eyes Louis for a moment, until he turns his eyes towards the window. 

“Hi,” Louis offers nervously, sitting next to Harry. He’s not sure if he should face Harry or look the other way too. The air is thick with Louis’ nerves and Harry’s coldness. Harry turns to gaze at Louis from the corner of his eye, turning away when Louis has settled. 

“How are you?” Louis asks conversationally, hoping Harry will say something. 

“I’m great,” Harry says with his rough voice. He spits the words out like they’d be rocks which hit the floor as soon as they leave Harry mouth. He’s not great. Louis doesn’t know what he should say next. If he should start explaining or do some more chit chatting. 

“You just woke up?” Louis decides to ask. 

“Yeah, went drinking last night,” Harry says, still avoiding looking at Louis. 

“Oh…” Louis feels his stomach drop. Harry hasn’t been drinking in a while and now when he’s clearly hungover, Louis can’t stop thinking if it was because of him. 

“Did you have…” 

“What do you want, Louis?” Harry turns to look at him with a bored expression on his face. Louis hasn’t seen him like this in a long time. The last time Harry gave Louis this look was when they went on their “date” a long time ago. 

“Fun?” Louis finishes his question quietly, which now seems silly. Harry doesn’t want to chit chat, he wants to get this over with. Louis casts his eyes to his lap, watching sweat glitter his palms. 

 

“I think I need to tell you something,” Louis begins. Harry settles against the couch, an expecting look on his face. Louis doesn’t want to look him in the eyes, it’s too hard to be honest with Harry while Louis is looking at him. Louis realizes he fears Harry’s not going to trust him anymore, after Louis has told him the truth. 

Louis stands up and starts pacing around the room. He goes to the window and sees people walking on the street and going on with their lives. Louis turns around and he glances at Harry who has his brows furrowed in confusion. 

Louis walks slowly towards Harry’s bed and back to the window, twisting his fingers together and trying to remember what he was supposed to say. He has lost all of it now, though. He can’t remember anything he was going to tell Harry. Like he had a well prepared speech anyway, but he still had something. Now? Nothing. He has nothing, he doesn’t even know where to start. 

“I’m not really sure where to begin…” Louis confesses. He feels like he’s going to make a path for himself in the middle of Harry’s living room. 

“Begin with what happened last night,” Harry says coolly. His voice isn’t as icy as it was before. 

“Well, that is the part where I don’t want to start because… I can’t really start with that,” Louis struggles with his words, but finally gets them out. 

 

“Don’t keep me waiting all day, Louis,” Harry’s annoyance shines through his voice. Louis swallows and stops for a moment. He closes his eyes and decides where to start. 

“So, there’s this thing that I haven’t told you because it’s quite hard to believe if I just told you the thing that I’m about to tell you now,” Louis realizes he’s not making any sense. He starts pacing again, clearing his throat to give himself more time. 

“What?” Harry sounds as confused as Louis feels. 

“Okay, so I know that the thing I’m going to tell you isn’t going to sound… Possible, but it is.” 

“Okay,” Harry drags out the word. 

 

“A few months back, I think, I was living a normal life. I was living at home with my mum and dad. I had just come home from a date, we had gone to some concert. I can’t remember which concert it was…” Louis glances Harry’s way, who has crossed his arms over his chest. The shadows under his eyes are even darker now when he’s annoyed. 

“But that doesn’t matter,” Louis gives a nervous chuckle, watching his feet while he rambles on. 

“My mum and dad were having an argument which ended with my mum leaving. She wanted me to go along with her, which I did. We were driving, the night was very cold…” Louis stops and raises his eyes towards the window in front of him. He can hear the familiar song playing in his head, like it did in the car while he and Donna crashed. 

“We were in a car crash and…” 

“What happened to your mum?” Louis hears Harry ask quietly. He’s not going to expect what Louis is going to tell him next. 

“She… She died,” Louis tells him, like he wouldn’t have understood it himself either. His mum died that night. It wasn’t only his life that ended. It was also his mum’s life. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Harry’s voice is warm like a hug. 

 

“That’s not all though… Umm… The accident was quite bad, I can’t remember what happened to me but… I didn’t survive either,” Louis breathes out. As he says the words, a rock is lifted from his chest and he feels like he can breathe freely again. He slowly turns towards Harry, who looks like he’s not understanding a word Louis is saying. 

“You didn’t survive?” Harry repeats. 

“Neither of us did, but we were kind of trapped here, or something…” Louis lowers his voice when he can see amusement spreading to Harry’s face. 

“You’re telling me… you’re dead?” His face twists with a manic laughter. It echoes around the apartment. Louis watches him, not knowing what he’s supposed to do next. Harry can’t stop laughing and Louis can only stare at him. 

When Harry can finally breathe again through his fit of giggles, he casts his eyes on Louis. His face changes from overly amused to confused and finally to angry. 

“You’re dead!” Harry yells, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. Louis guesses he’s not going to be able to close his mouth for a while. 

 

“Now we get to last night!” Louis claps his hands together, like he’d be a game show host. Mainly he reminds himself of Harry’s dad. 

“When we were driving on the highway and that one song came on, the one which you liked to sing along to… That’s the song which played when I and mum crashed. And when you stopped the car, I ran to the field where… Where it all happened,” Louis feels very conscious of himself. Harry looks utterly confused, Louis thinks he’s going to start laughing again. But he doesn’t. 

“What are you doing here then?” Harry asks with suspicion in his voice. 

“I wanted to come and tell you everything,” Louis is waiting for the next question like he’d be in for a huge interrogation. 

“No,” Harry chuckles, his face lacking any joy. 

“I mean, what are you doing here with me? Why are you wasting your time with me if you’re… What are you?” Louis knew this was coming and it’s the one question he doesn’t know the answer to. What is he supposed to say? He’s here telling the truth and he doesn’t know if he should tell Harry the truth about the reason he’s here. 

“Me, and my mum… I guess we’re… Angels?” Louis stands still while facing Harry, not sure if this was the right thing to do. He knows he shouldn’t be telling any of this to Harry. It might scar him for life. Louis feels like such a monster, not some angel. He has been Harry’s friend for a while and now he’s practically taking it all away with just a few words which he can’t even explain properly. Harry listens intently, never losing his focus from Louis. His eyes bore over Louis and pierce him and leave him filled with holes. 

 

“And the reason you’re here?” 

Louis exhales. His hands shake and he feels like he’s going to pass out soon. Slowly he walks over to the couch and sits down next to Harry. He turns towards Harry, who scoots as far away from Louis as possible. Harry still has his attention on Louis though, but he wants to stay away. 

“My mum told me that she had seen you a while back. She was busy watching over my dad so she wanted me to look after you and befriend you,” Louis tells Harry truthfully. He can see his words lash through Harry, he can see it all in Harry’s eyes. Louis can see Harry’s pulse rhythmically speeding up in his pulse point over his neck. He’s trying to decide how he should take Louis’ words in, but Louis already knows he’s hurt. Louis knows he’s losing Harry. His words aren’t going to save anything, this will probably be the last time he’s ever going to talk to Harry and he’s going to ruin everything. He should’ve just told Harry he’s moving or something. He should’ve made up another lie to cover up the truth. But Louis also knew he wouldn’t have been able to lie to Harry. 

It still hurts to see Harry like this. Louis can see the wall building up around Harry, he’s already pulling away. It hurts Louis too. 

 

“So you’ve been my friend because someone told you to? Because someone thought I need help?” 

“My mum was just worried. She didn’t mean to kill me too and then she saw you and thought you were lonely and she knew I had nothing to do… She just wanted to be a good mother.” 

“You can tell your mum to keep away from me and my things. I was perfectly okay without her or you interfering with my life,” Harry’s jaw tightens. 

“Were you, though?” Louis asks before he can think his question through. Now he also feels like he’s trying to pick a fight with Harry. 

“You knew nothing about me or my life before you decided to walk into it. You still don’t know me! We’ve been…” Harry shakes his head, closing his mouth like he wouldn’t want to say something. 

“For a few months and you still don’t know me! And now that I think of it, I shouldn’t have told you anything. I should’ve shut you out. I shouldn’t have ran after you that one day when I already told you to leave. I shouldn’t have trusted you. You have probably told everything to your mum and who knows who else, and you’ve tried to come up with ways to make me tell you things I don’t want anyone to know.” 

Harry looks so disappointed. Louis isn’t sure what he should say next. If he should apologize or try to redeem himself by defending himself. He’s just not sure if it’ll work. Harry looks so hurt, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be convinced by some crazier stories. 

 

“I found out about my mum’s plans just last night. I never wanted to hurt you like this,” Louis takes the road to defend himself. Like he already knew, it’s not working. Harry gets even more upset. But suddenly it changes, his expression turns blank. 

Louis can tell nothing by looking into Harry’s eyes. He's like a white paper. When you bring it in front of a light, you can only see white. There's no hidden messages or even small prints of black ink. Just white. Even though you know there’s something between your eyes and the thing you’re trying to see, you still can imagine everything through that blank paper. And that is Harry right now. He’s a blank paper who Louis could paint with whatever story he could come up with. He could tell the stories Harry has told Louis and they would stick to the white surface and define Harry. Or Louis could come up with lies which could make Harry completely different. 

“Did she have a plan?” Harry asks coldly. This isn’t going to go well. Louis has to turn away from Harry; he has to face the other way so he can tell Harry the truth. Why did he make himself come up here? Why did he make himself tell the truth? He can’t stop now, Louis has already started and Harry has to know everything now. If Louis hadn’t said anything about a plan, maybe he could’ve let that one thing slide. But now? Harry’s not going to let that plan part go just like that. 

“My mum’s plan… She thought… She came up with this thing,” Louis can’t form a coherent sentence. He can feel his heart pumping in his chest and he’s almost nauseous of how nervous he is. 

“Spit it out, Louis,” Harry orders. The way he says it feels like a whip has been slashed against Louis’ back.

“She thought, if I could make you fall for me and realize what love could be like, maybe you’d be able to find someone by your side and you wouldn’t be so alone anymore, and…” Louis buries his face into his hands. There’s no turning back now. 

“What?” Harry cuts Louis off. Louis’ heart stops beating all of a sudden and he can feel all the life being drained through his fingertips. 

“You were meant to make me fall in love with you?” Harry asks, waiting for confirmation. When Louis nods against his hands, Harry stands abruptly. Louis can hear him pacing around the room, like it’d be his turn. Louis peeks at Harry through his fingers, seeing him have his hands in his hair. He looks like he’d be a ticking time bomb. Louis is only expecting him to blow up. 

“Do you even know how…” Harry shakes his head, halting his steps for a moment. Then he starts again. 

 

“You disgust me, Louis, you are disgusting!” He yells. Louis winces at the loud sound which vibrates in every wall in Harry’s small apartment. 

“I want you out of my life! I don’t want to see you ever again! You are one of the ugliest person who has ever been in my life!” Harry stops and turns towards Louis. The way Harry stands and stares at Louis scares him. He has never seen Harry like this. 

“I’ve had my fair share of disgusting people in my life, but you really take the throne. No one has never played me like you have and I fell for it. I trusted you. I thought you are on my side, but now I can see what you really are. You are no angel, you’re a demon. And I want you out of my apartment. I want you out of my life. I want you out of my thoughts.” 

Harry looks at Louis like he’d be looking at a pile of garbage. Louis can do nothing more than just leave. Harry follows Louis with his eyes, making sure he actually leaves. Watches that he leaves and closes the door after himself. Louis doesn’t stay to put his jacket or shoes on at Harry’s, but carries them to the stairwell and puts them on there. He catches a glimpse of Harry just as he’s closing the door and he can see Harry physically shaking with rage. Louis doesn’t know what he should do. He’s Harry’s guardian angel and Harry doesn’t want to see him anymore. When the door has closed, just a few seconds pass before Louis can hear something shattering against the wall. He stares at Harry’s door, listening if he can hear anything else, but he doesn’t. 

He puts on his shoes and jacket, deciding what he should do next. He feels like he’s the demon Harry saw. Maybe he’s right; Louis has been a lying demon who let someone, who trusted him, down. Louis knows he shouldn’t do it, but silently he takes a few steps forward and presses his ear against Harry’s door. There are no clear sounds coming from inside. But if he really pushes his abilities to hear, he can hear someone weeping quietly. He knows it’s Harry and it hurts Louis to hear him cry. Louis presses his hands against Harry’s door and slides down to sit on the floor. He listens to Harry who can’t calm himself down. Louis would want to be there, with Harry. He’d want to make it easier. 

But he can’t. 

 

\- -

 

Louis walks out from Harry’s building when the sun has set. The streets are busy with people and Louis sees everyone without faces. When he has reached the other side of the street, he looks up towards Harry’s windows. They’re dark, he hasn’t put on any lights. Louis is worried he might do something stupid. Harry might go out again, losing all control and be left in trouble. Or he might leave and go missing. He might meet an old friend who isn’t good company for him. That’d mean Louis has failed. And he doesn’t want that to happen. He’s not going to just let go even though Harry doesn’t want to see Louis. All those words mean nothing when Harry is in danger. 

“You could keep an eye on him,” Donna says. Louis scares from his mum, who is standing next to him. She’s looking up towards Harry’s windows too. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” Louis sighs, starting to walk away. Donna follows him, taking a hold from his elbow and twining her hand around it. 

“It’s not that hard to guess what you’re thinking after seeing you looking at his windows like he’s Juliet and you’re Romeo.” 

“That’s just lame,” Louis tries to shake his mother off, but fails. 

 

“Let’s go see dad, maybe spending time there will take your mind off him,” Donna offers, already leading them the right way.

“No,” Louis shakes his head, stopping. Donna turns back, confusion on her face. 

“No?” 

“I still haven’t forgiven you, mum, I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” Louis’ voice is harsh. Donna directs her eyes towards the ground. 

“I thought we could talk it through,” Donna sounds as defeated as she looks. 

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you! You ruined everything, I lost a friend just now and you’re here like nothing has happened! First I lose my life because of you and now I’ve lost a friend because of you. So no, I’m not coming to see dad with you.” 

Louis feels a pang of guilt in his gut. Maybe he’s being too harsh. 

“I wasn’t the one who told you to tell Harry the truth. You decided that. I didn’t ruin your friendship, so you have no right to blame me for that,” Donna steps forward, defending herself. 

“But you…” Louis starts too loudly. Some of the passers-by turn to look at him. Louis takes a deep breath, before looking back at his mum. 

“But it was you who came up with this whole plot to trap him in some hopeless friendship where he would fall for me and then I’d be forced to let him down. You’re the one who made it all happen, I was the one who didn’t want to play along,” Louis says with hard eyes. Donna lets go of Louis’ arm. For a while she looks at Louis, maybe waiting for him to say something more. But when he doesn’t, she turns around and walks away with the crowd. Louis looks at her leave, relieved he can be alone for a while. 

He just doesn’t know where to go. Or what to do. He looks back up and sees there’s still no lights on in Harry’s apartment. Maybe Harry has already ran away or then he’s still inside. Either way, Louis can’t stay outside and watch Harry’s building all night. 

He can see the flow of people which could drift him anywhere. He gives Harry’s windows one last look, like he could send some strength to Harry. He can see a group of young people talking loudly. They’re going to some party, Louis figures out by their outfits. They laugh and they’re filled with life. 

With nowhere else to go, Louis starts to follow them, expecting to go somewhere where he can forget everything else other than how he could fix everything and make sure Harry is okay. 

 

\- - - -

 

At some point, Louis thought it could be easy. He thought it’d get better and he’d get back to his normal life. Or as normal it could ever be. He had all these wishes of how he’ll get through his days and how he could just slowly fade away. He thought he could do it. He thought it’d be for the best to just forget his friendship with Harry. 

But he didn’t prepare himself. He didn’t think he could feel such an enormous loss, like he would’ve lost a part of himself after telling everything to Harry. He really thought he could just let go and move on. At least Harry didn’t want anything to do with Louis anymore so what could stop him. 

The problem is that Harry is the one stopping Louis from moving forward. He can’t stop thinking how Harry is doing. If Harry has already started working with the record label. If Harry has found new friends and is now happy and living his life to the fullest. if Harry has gone to the bar and walked home alone, not recognizing the streets or even his own building. Louis thought he could do it in a snap of his fingers. He thought he could give Harry’s apartment one last look, before letting go completely. That is what he has to do next, right?

Things changed when Louis caught a glimpse of Harry a while back. First he didn’t even realize it’s Harry; he had already forgotten the way he walked or how Harry’s curls flowed when he was walking. But when Harry walked past him without noticing Louis, like he would’ve been made out of marble which just walks amongst people, Louis realized it’s his friend who he had let go of. It wasn’t even the realization that it was Harry which caught Louis’ attention. 

It was the way Harry looked; completely miserable and tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were hollowed and his feet dragged against the ground. The man, who walked past Louis, looked even worse than when Louis met him for the first time. Then he was kept together, but clearly wallowing in problems. He had that wall around himself, which kept everyone away and every feeling he might’ve felt inside of him. Now that wall has crumbled to his feet. He drags the debris along, letting every little negative thing affect him. Harry doesn’t look like himself; he was never this vulnerable, not even when he opened up to Louis. 

Since that moment, when Louis first saw Harry after he had told Harry the truth, Louis has been keeping an eye on Harry. He didn’t want to do it at first, it felt too creepy. Like he was stalking someone and it’d only make Harry even more furious than he was when he drove Louis away from his home. 

Louis has been keeping his distance, he doesn’t want Harry to feel like he’s being followed around. Louis simply makes sure he gets home safely after a night in the pub or won’t get in trouble with anyone. Louis knows he’s maybe over reacting, but he also knows what Harry can be like if he’s too drunk or if people want to take him home. He can only wish Harry won’t meet anyone who want to harm him. Louis doesn’t want Harry to get hurt. 

 

\- - - -

 

Harry is nervous. He’s definitely having the jitters over tonight. He doesn’t even know why, he has been on dates before. 

He’s standing outside the pub, people coming and going. He already knows the pub’s going to be packed, people trying to find company for their own needs. Harry luckily already found a guy who seemed nice enough. Not even nice enough, but a catch! His name is Caden, he’s funny and doesn’t bore Harry. He doesn’t want to know every single detail of Harry’s life and most importantly he’s kind, which is almost surprising. Most of the guys Harry has met in the bar has been total idiots from the get go, clearly looking after just that one thing. They don’t even offer to buy a drink before taking Harry home. 

Caden was different. He came to talk to Harry, he made Harry laugh and he walked Harry home. He didn’t even ask if he could come inside and Harry didn’t offer if Caden would’ve liked to come and have a drink at his place. It almost reminded Harry about another encounter he had a while back. But Louis wouldn’t camouflage himself to be someone else, would he? Can angels even do that? 

Last night’s dream of Louis comes to Harry’s mind. He can still see him clearly sitting in his living room, on the floor, listening to Harry’s demo for the first time, with his wings on his back. It was almost a beautiful thing to see, but when Louis started talking, Harry couldn’t stop thinking if it was all lies. Even in his dreams Harry’s mind is telling him to forget Louis, who only wanted to use Harry in the worst possible way. Harry shouldn’t have told anything to Louis because Louis gave nothing in exchange. Harry knew nothing about him and still trusted him blatantly. The whole situation makes Harry feel so dumb that he’d want to laugh and cry at the same time. 

Someone bumps into Harry, pushing him to take a few steps forward. The person turns around and apologizes before going into the pub with her friends. Harry nods and gives a tight lipped smile. The girl was almost like a wakeup call; Harry has to forget Louis. Harry fixes his shirt which makes him feel too self-conscious. He should’ve worn the black button up rather than the black sheer shirt with black panels. He feels too exposed. Now he’s the one with the blatant suggestions rather than being someone who could maybe want something more. He wouldn’t say no to dating Caden more permanently. Maybe even taking it slow. Maybe Louis’ interference with Harry’s life was what he needed. Maybe now Harry can actually date people with some plans for the future rather than for the next few hours. 

 

Harry can’t really do anything to his outfit anymore so he heads inside. Like he thought, the pub is full. He can see Liam behind the counter, smiling to customers and taking their orders. He glances towards the door and sees Harry. Liam gives him a smile and a nod, continuing to work. 

“Well hello,” Harry hears a familiar voice. He sees Caden walking to him, already a drink in his hand. 

“Hi,” Harry greets, accepting Caden’s one armed hug. He smells good, a bit smoky, a bit sweet, a bit like he’s been drinking a lot already and a bit like he’s been in a forest for a while. 

“Let’s go over here, I found a couple of my friends before you came here so we took a booth for ourselves,” Caden explains, taking Harry’s hand into his and leading him towards the booths. He has a drunken glimmer in his eyes. Boy that man can flirt with his eyes, Harry thinks, following Caden like a little child. Harry feels his cheeks heating up, taking it as a good sign. 

He looks at his date, Caden moving effortlessly in the crowded space. He’s also wearing black jeans like Harry is, but he has companied it with a white shirt. His hand is warm, but not too hot. Harry can almost forget his worries over his outfit, but now, when they’re meeting Caden’s friends, the nerves kick in. Maybe they won’t think anything about it, or then they’ll joke about how Harry and Caden are definitely going to the same address at the end of this evening. 

“Hey, everyone, this is Harry, the one I spoke to you about,” Caden introduces, his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry smiles and waves at the two couples around the table. They smile back at him, eyeing Caden mischievously. Caden doesn’t bother to introduce the people to Harry and they keep on talking with each other after they’ve seen Harry. 

“I’m going to get you a drink, just get comfortable,” Caden whispers into Harry’s ear, squeezing his shoulder and dragging his hand along Harry’s arm before he leaves Harry with his friends. Harry doesn’t know how he should approach these people. They seem like a tight group, just talking with each other, not paying attention to anyone around them. Harry sits down in the booth, watching the people who are crowding the pub. A lot of people look like they’re going to go to another party after they’re finished drinking here. Girls are wearing sparkly dresses and guys are wearing their most fashionable shirts. Harry can’t see Caden at the counter, but he must be somewhere over there. 

 

Harry taps his palms against his thighs, a silent rhythm he’s trying to fit with the song that is playing in the pub. One of Caden’s friends, a young woman, looks his way and smiles. She takes her purse to her lap and scoots a bit closer to her date, a dark skinned guy who looks very young too. Harry eyes the group a little closer, realizing the other couple looks awfully young too. Like they would’ve just turned 18. 

Caden gets back, drinks in both of his hands. He hands one to Harry and keeps sipping the other. He sits down next to Harry, draping his arm around Harry’s neck. He watches the group of four, eyeing one of the guys.

“Do you really know them?” Harry asks, his curiosity taking over. Something makes him believe Caden isn’t really their friend. When Caden talked about meeting some friends, Harry thought them to be a group of young adults who are open to chat with Harry and even Caden. This bunch of teenagers don’t really seem to match that vision. 

Caden smiles and pecks Harry’s cheek, squeezing Harry closer to his chest. 

“They wanted to have fun so when they’re ready to go, I’m going to give them some… supplies,” Caden smiles, burying his face into Harry’s neck. 

“Supplies?” 

“You don’t have to worry your pretty head with it, let’s focus on us and our fun, okay?” Harry looks Caden a little more closely, actually realizing how drunk he must already be. Caden’s eyes are half shut, his smile sloppy and he definitely smells like booze. Harry gives the young group a look, understanding the circumstances. “Supplies” has to mean something stronger than just drinks. Maybe he should warn them. 

“Harry, they know what they’re doing, you don’t have to worry about them,” Caden turns Harry’s face from the group with his hand, keeping Harry still and staring into Caden’s eyes. 

“But don’t you think it’s a bit wrong?” 

“They can take care of themselves, I’m just doing what I’m told,” Caden drawls and comes closer. His lips press against Harry’s, which doesn’t feel bad. He tastes like hard liquor and smoke, his lips are a bit chapped and his tongue teases Harry’s mouth a bit too much. But Harry can’t deny he doesn’t like it. 

Caden has definitely had his fair share of guys to kiss before; Harry can’t say he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Harry moves his hand to Caden’s back and drags it harshly against Caden’s spine; he can feel his fingers bringing up Caden’s shirt. His hand rises all the way up to Caden’s neck, pulling him closer to Harry. Caden’s hand sneaks onto Harry’s inner thigh, which makes Harry take a deep breath in and shudder it all out in a long exhale. 

Harry also realizes that he’s on a date with completely different person compared to the Caden he met earlier this week. Caden wasn’t drunk, which might explain why he wasn’t so upfront back then. He was almost shy when they met, but liquid courage has really brought out a new type of person. Harry hasn’t yet decided if he likes this Caden better or the one who hasn’t had too much to drink. 

 

“Maybe we should take it a bit slower,” Harry blurts out when Caden’s hand is getting dangerously close to Harry’s crotch. Caden smiles drunkenly, nodding like a little child who has been promised candy. Harry takes his drink into his shaking hand, emptying the glass in one shot. He grimaces at the strong taste, his senses wanting more immediately. 

“You want another drink? I can get you one,” Harry suggests, already moving to get out from the booth. He sees the group of four staring at him from the corner of their eyes, which makes Harry feel like he’s be a circus animal who is prisoned into a too small cage and it makes his adrenaline flow freely. He lets their curious looks slide from his thoughts and focuses on Caden, who is handing Harry his glass. 

“Rum on the rocks, please,” Caden stretches his hands out against the booth, a tired look on his face like he would’ve just woken up from a nap. Harry smiles, walking as fast as he can. He doesn’t know why he feels so wrong. He feels like he shouldn’t be in that booth, sitting with Caden and those young teenagers who like to get out of their minds tonight. He feels like he’s doing something very forbidden. Maybe it should feel like that, maybe it’s just exciting to be this nervous. Harry settles with that, but something keeps gnawing his thoughts in the back of his mind. 

 

“Harry!” Liam exclaims just as Harry sets the glasses down on the counter. Harry smiles at him, watching how Liam pours the drinks as if he would’ve read Harry’s mind. 

“So, who’s the guy?” Liam winks, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“Caden, he’s a new… friend of mine,” Harry tells him, unable to get rid of the weird feeling. He even thinks Liam could be his trusted person in this situation. If something would happen to Harry, Liam would know who he was with the whole night. But that’s a silly thought. What could go wrong? Harry is a grownup, he can take care of himself. 

“Have fun,” Liam tells Harry, before he’s off to serve another customer. Harry takes the drinks and brings them back to the booth. Caden moves a little to give Harry room to come and sit next to him. Caden takes his drink gratefully, sipping at it while watching Harry under his brow. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Caden tells, leaning against Harry’s ear. He seems even more drunk than he was when Harry left to get them those drinks. 

“Really?” Harry cocks his brow, deciding to let go of his worries. He’s having a great time with a person he could have a lot of fun with. 

“Mmhmm,” Caden hums, his eyes falling shut and opening up slowly. 

“You come to my mind when I’ve been at work… or while I’ve been in the shower or when I’ve been alone in my bed,” Caden purrs against Harry’s skin, which raises the hairs on Harry’s neck. He smiles and finishes his drink, turning to look into Caden’s eyes. 

“It must be the curls, they’re very sexy to me,” Caden whispers in the loud bar. Harry is sure he wouldn’t be able to hear his words if the atmosphere wouldn’t be so charged. Harry swallows thickly, Caden’s voice vibrating in Harry’s core long after he has closed his mouth. Caden knows what he’s doing, you can see it in his eyes. 

 

“I need to get you another drink, you can’t survive without one,” Caden takes the glass from Harry’s hand, standing up to his wobbly feet. He sways a little before he’s off towards the bar. Harry looks after him, sighing to keep himself calm. 

“Excuse me,” one of the young guys from their booth gets Harry’s attention. 

“Yeah?” 

“When your friend gets back, can you tell him we’re ready to leave?” His voice trembles when he finishes. Harry nods at him, smiling politely. Maybe he should be a bit worried for those four, but he’s starting to feel the drinks taking over his nerve system. The young man smiles back, before going back to talking with his friends. 

 

“Here you go,” Caden gives Harry his drink. It’s not the same as it was before; it’s not whiskey, it isn’t Harry’s drink. 

“What’s this?” Harry points at the red liquor. He smells it, something sweet and hard wafting to his nose. 

“It’s cherry vodka. I actually want to try something,” Caden tells Harry, pressing against him once again. Harry can already feel the heat building inside of him, knowing that he’s going to be in for something he hasn’t done before. 

“Before we try anything, one of your friends said they’re ready to leave,” Harry tells Caden quietly, both of their eyes turning to the four who are already looking at Caden expectantly. 

“You’re ready to go?” Caden asks them, his forehead wrinkling as he nods his head forward. The four stand up all at the same time. Apparently it’s enough for Caden, who also stands up and starts to dig around the pockets of his jeans.

“Wait here, don’t finish your drink before I get back,” Caden leans down and says the words firmly against Harry’s ear. Harry nods, watching the five walk out from the pub. Harry relaxes against the couch, the sweet smelling drink in his hand. He brings it up to his lips and lets the edge of the glass rest against the soft skin. 

He doesn’t know why, but he wouldn’t want to drink it. It’s not the same as his regular drink. He’s not sure how it’ll make him feel. He knows that the sweetest drinks are the ones which can deceive you and for some reason that makes him nervous. But a bit of a rebel at the same time. Slowly he tips the glass, the hard liquor hitting his lips and flowing into his mouth. It’s sweet, as he predicted, but also a bit tangy. He swirls the taste around his mouth before swallowing, his eyes watching the red drink in the glass. The colour is almost hypnotic. Slowly he sways the glass, making the liquid go around in circles. The taste of cherry lingers in his mouth, like he would’ve just eaten one. 

 

“You haven’t drank it yet, good boy,” Caden comes out of nowhere, startling Harry from his wordless thoughts. He sits next to Harry, his hand around Harry’s shoulders once again. 

“So I want to try something,” he says, a dark smile on his lips. Harry only raises his brows in question, suggesting Caden to continue. 

“I want you to take a sip of your drink but don’t swallow it,” he says. Harry waits for something else, but when Caden doesn’t say anything more, Harry brings the glass to his lips. He takes all of the drink into his mouth, which is too much, but he still resists swallowing it. The vodka burns his tongue, like he’d have flames licking the insides of his mouth. 

Caden smiles, his hand snaking to the back of Harry’s neck. He brings Harry’s face closer, his lips connecting with Harry’s and covering Harry’s mouth. He forces Harry’s mouth open with his tongue, the drink spilling into his mouth too. Harry wants to pull away but Caden keeps him still, until they have swallowed what was left of the cherry vodka. 

 

“I knew it would taste even better from your mouth,” Caden wipes the corner of his mouth, before kissing the corner of Harry’s mouth where the drink has spilled. Harry doesn’t know what he should say or if he even should say something. Caden sees how tense Harry is, massaging Harry’s shoulder. 

“You did well, Harry. You can relax now,” Caden whispers into Harry’s ear, his fingers playing with Harry’s hair. Like those words would contain some magic spell, Harry starts to relax. He closes his eyes, the taste of Cherry and vodka and Caden on his lips and his muscles coming more and more relaxed when Caden rubs them. Harry is certain Caden has his hands everywhere over his body, but when Harry opens his eyes, Caden is holding his drink with his other hand and his other is still resting on Harry’s shoulder. 

“I want another one of those cherry drinks,” Harry says into Caden’s ear. He smiles, taking the glass from Harry’s hand and getting it filled again. Caden keeps his eyes on Harry when he’s by the bar and Harry can’t stop looking at the man who is making him feel dirty in a way he hasn’t felt before. 

 

That’s the moment when Harry realizes that tonight’s going to be wild. He almost expected it to turn this way; he wants it to be something he can’t never forget and something he can’t remember fully. He wants to lose all the barriers his brain keeps giving him. He sees Caden coming back with the cherry vodka in his hand and Harry can’t wait to drink it. Maybe even share it with Caden. 

Caden keeps bringing Harry those sweet drinks. He watches Harry drink, only sipping from his own glass of rum. He smiles and listens when Harry keeps telling him how he hasn’t tried another drink in many years and how Caden has now opened his eyes to a land of sweetness and filth. Harry keeps saying how he can almost see everything covered in sparkles, like they’d be in a fairy tale. Harry knows he’s getting more and more drunk the more he drinks. He knows he’s giggling too much and he knows he should slow down. But he doesn’t want to. 

When Caden brings Harry a new drink, which has to be Harry’s twentieth, Harry also knows he has to use the bathroom. Alcohol is making his insides gooey and everything runs through it in a second. 

“I’ll wait for you here,” Caden tells Harry, when he runs into the toilet. Harry can’t wait to drink more and he can’t wait to be kissed by Caden like he has been the whole night. 

Harry washes his hands quickly, glancing at his reflection on the mirror. His lips are cherry red and puffy, they taste like the liquor he has been drinking all night. Harry wouldn’t mind if his lips would still look like this in the morning, as a reminder of this amazing night. His eyes are hooded, his expression a mixture of joy and drunkenness. He likes this look. His hair looks fluffy and his eyes look greener than ever. Maybe he should suggest they’d go dancing somewhere, maybe Caden could introduce another sweet drink to Harry. The thought makes Harry’s heart beat with excitement. 

 

“There you are, I already thought you passed out in the toilet,” Caden smiles, when he welcomes Harry back with a smirk. Harry giggles, climbing over Caden and leaving his leg swung over Caden’s lap even though Caden gave him room to just sit down. He doesn’t mind though; he looks like he’s enjoying this maybe a bit too much. 

“Drink this,” Caden gives Harry the newly filled glass he brought for Harry the newly filled glass, which Harry didn't have a chance to drink before he had to leave for the toilet. Harry takes it into his hands and downs the liquor easily. The funny thing is that he’s still not drunk enough. He can still taste the drink, it still makes him grimace a little. And something makes him grimace even more. The taste is a bit tangier than before. 

“How’s that?” Caden asks, a pleased expression on his face. Harry licks his lips, trying to recognize the extra flavour. 

“What did they add to this?” Harry asks with his brows pulled together. 

“You’ll recognize it in a few moments, I promise,” Caden leans forward once again. Harry smiles and closes his eyes. His hand searches blindly for the table where he can rest the glass. When he doesn’t hear it breaking against the floor, he brings his hand to Caden’s neck and caresses his hair, taking some locks between his fingers. Caden leans forward, pulling Harry tighter against himself. Harry is sure he’s one with Caden. He’s sure he’s melting against Caden’s body and morphing to be around Caden like he’d be Caden’s skin. 

 

Harry opens his eyes and is faced with Caden who is smiling back at him. Harry pulls back as if he’s been struck by lightning.

“What is it?” Caden’s face twists with worry. 

“No, it’s… You have two faces,” Harry tries to touch Caden’s face, but his hand goes through it. 

“Really?” Caden’s worry turns into a smirk, like he would’ve been expecting something like this to happen. 

“Yeah, your… Whoa! Now you have eight eyes,” Harry shakes his head. His heart takes an unpleasant leap, starting to beat erratically. He doesn’t like the feeling; his blood pumps in his veins too fast, his skin crawls and small drops of sweat start to rise to the surface. 

“What else?” Caden keeps Harry still. Harry tries to touch Caden’s face, but when he lifts his hand to touch Caden’s skin, he sees his fingers melting into pink goo. He turns his hand over, examining it while his fingers are melting more and more and they start to look like stumps. 

 

“What is happening?” Harry asks, scared of his own voice. It doesn’t sound like his, it’s too broken. As if Harry would’ve been screaming for the past 24 hours. 

“It’s just a test, nothing to worry about.” 

“Just a test?” Harry shakes his heads, hating his voice, but he can’t stop panicking. 

“What have you done to me?” Harry’s head starts to feel like it’s filled with that same pink goo his hands have become. Everything swims in his eyes and roll around. The whole room is doing a cartwheel and Harry can’t keep up. The noises around him fade and get louder, which develops into an ear shattering ringing. Harry holds his head with his hands, wanting it to stop. He closes his eyes, but sees only stars, like he’d faint if he’d keep his eyes closed for too long. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Caden says into Harry’s ear which sounds like he’s talking from a different universe. 

“What? Where? I don’t think I can walk,” Harry tries to protest, but Caden is already pulling him to his feet. 

“I’ll help you,” Caden says. Harry is looking into blood red eyes, when Caden starts to melt in front of him. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, let me go, no, no, no, no,” Harry pulls back, but all his strength is gone. Caden is the one who can master Harry, like he’d be a puppet with strings attached to his limbs. Harry stumbles forward, Caden holding Harry tightly against his body. 

“Just walk like you usually walk, it’s going to be easier and easier,” Caden instructs. Harry’s head lolls from side to side. He tries to see a familiar face, but everyone seem to be covered in glitter which blinds him with the brightness. 

“No, I need to tell Liam that something’s wrong, Liam!” Harry already yells, but Caden covers Harry’s mouth with his hand. 

“Shhhh, you’re safe with me, you don’t have to yell,” Caden says with his purring voice, leading them outside. 

 

The cool air feels good in Harry’s lungs, but everything turns even more terrifying for him. Every building, every car and every person who walks along the street look like huge black holes which could suck Harry right into oblivion. They sparkle and they pull him forward and they seem like they’re calling for him. Especially the cars, which have a familiar face plastered all over their surface. The stickers turn into said cars, the fronts morphing to Louis’ face. They all smile and say Harry’s name, calling him to come closer. 

“Louis,” Harry says, watching the cars drift by. 

“No, it’s Caden and we’re going to my place now,” Harry hears that icy voice in his mind. He can’t stop seeing Louis in everyone, he’s all around him. Harry is living in Louis-land, his own personal hell. He can feel Caden pulling him forward, walking him somewhere and Harry has no idea where Caden is taking him. Harry looks down at his feet, seeing the sky under his shoes. He looks up and sees the stars brightly greeting him. The buildings are Louis and the sky and the ground have turned to stars. Harry looks back down, seeing his feet slowly melting and raining into space under his soles. 

 

“Where are you taking him?” Harry hears through the ringing in his ears. He looks up, seeing one of the most beautiful creatures in the history of universe. Louis stands in front of him, wings as big as Louis himself standing there, innocently, calmly asking where they’re going. 

“I don’t know,” Harry says and feels his lips pull into a smile. 

“It’s none of your business,” Harry can hear Caden’s voice, who pulls Harry closer against his body. His tight squeeze around Harry’s waist makes Harry feel like his hand is inside Harry’s skin, twirling in his intestines. Harry looks down to see Caden’s hand dripping black goo all over him. 

“Maybe you should take him home, he doesn’t look that good,” Louis’ calm voice says, and when Harry looks back up to see him, his image flashes. First he’s this beautiful angel, who makes sure Harry is alright. Then his image flips, showing a man, who resembles Louis. His face is beaten up, blood splattered across his forehead and mouth. Something’s sticking out from his stomach and his leg looks twisted. Harry backs away, but Caden pulls him back, keeping him firmly in his place. 

“Maybe you should just move on, you didn’t see anything,” Caden’s voice sounds venomous. He hasn’t sounded like that before and when Harry looks his way, huge black horns grow through his skull, his eyes turning completely black and his mouth slits his whole face. 

“Let him go,” Louis firmly orders, Harry looking back his way and sees the beautiful creature back in front of him, making Harry calmer. 

“Or what?” Caden laughs, his tongue sticking out. Harry can see it from the corner of his eye; it’s long and black and it looks like it could cut through glass. Harry closes his eyes, picturing that white serenity in front of him. He feels himself smiling, his body turning into that pink goo which doesn’t feel that bad. 

Someone yells something, but Harry is just goo which melts into the universe. The stars will take good care of him. He can feel the loss of gravity, his feet aren’t touching the ground and his limbs seem to fade away. He can hear himself laughing, the feeling is majestic. 

 

“Harry, get up, let’s go, get up, listen to me, get up,” Harry can hear Louis’ whisper in his ear, which makes him laugh even more. He can feel Louis’ wings touching his skin, it tickles and tingles. The white feathers are making his skin burn and freeze at the same time. But it doesn’t hurt; Harry likes to feel wings around himself. 

Suddenly he feels like he’s flying, he must’ve grown wings of his own. They take him far away and they flutter gracefully in slow motion. 

“Aaaahhhhhh,” Harry says, dragging the sound from high to low, moving his arms with his wings. 

“What did you say?” Harry can hear Louis’ voice from afar. 

“Aaaaaaaahhhhahahaha,” Harry repeats, the sound making him laugh. The joyous sound ignites something in him, which only creates new bursts of laughter. Harry hears Louis’ giggles, which make him laugh even more. His arms move with his wings and he’s flying and he feels free. It’s the best feeling he’s ever had. 

 

The wind gets chillier and chillier which makes Harry close his mouth and hug his arms around himself. His wings are still making him fly and he knows he’s up above the ground. He’s already flying along the stars, he can see them through his closed eyes. They sparkle so beautifully, making everything bright and silvery. 

But suddenly his wings start to get smaller; they pull back into his back and leave him floating. Harry’s not sure if he’ll ever get back to earth, but he wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. Being up in the sky doesn’t feel half bad. 

Until something soft touches his head and makes it feel heavy. Harry opens his eyes and sees only dark. Have the stars gone to sleep? Then he sees a white light illuminating behind his back, fitting right against Harry’s back. He can feel his wings curling around him, he can hear a light wind whispering against his ear. He closes his eyes and sees the stars, which finally take him away. 

 

\- - 

 

Harry wakes up shuddering throughout his body. Like he’d be extremely cold, but at the same time feeling too hot. He can feel small pools of sweat on his neck and his back is completely soaked. Someone’s hugging him. Harry doesn’t recognize the hands, but they have to be Caden’s. No one else was with him last night. And now when Harry thinks of it, he can still feel his clothes on him. Maybe nothing bad happened. Caden was just trying something which Harry didn’t react well to. 

He can still feel that odd melting feeling in his limbs, but when he opens his eyes, at least he can see normally again. No universes circle around him or boys with wings try to take him somewhere. The room just seems to be swinging from side to side even though Harry knows he’s staying still. 

Then he recognizes something. The light on the wall. It’s his light. He turns his head to see the wall from the corner of his eye; his polaroids are on the wall. He’s at home. Caden said he’s going to take Harry to his place. How did they end up at Harry’s? Was it closer than Caden’s? Caden doesn’t know which one is Harry’s apartment, though. Harry would’ve needed to show him, and he can’t remember showing anything to anyone. He can’t even remember if he talked. He can only remember flying. And laughing. 

 

“Caden?” Harry asks, his voice is extremely husky. Has he been yelling? 

“Harry, are you awake?” That is definitely not Caden’s voice. 

“Caden?” Harry feels panic taking over his body. Who is he lying in bed with? 

“No, Harry, it’s not Caden,” the stranger says with his hushed voice. 

“Who is it then?” Harry starts to tremble again. 

“It’s… It’s Louis. I can go if you want, just tell me to leave and I’m out of your door,” Louis says as if he’s being stabbed. Harry doesn’t know what to say to him. How is he here? Why isn’t Harry with Caden? Did they both come to Harry’s? Why is Louis hugging Harry? Just as Harry thinks of Louis hugging him, Louis’ hand becomes lighter against his waist and lifts off. Like he would’ve read Harry’s mind. 

Harry can feel the bed dipping behind his back. The sheets rustle against Louis’ clothes when he moves towards the foot of the bed and sits there. 

 

“You don’t have to go,” Harry hears himself say. Does he want Louis to go? He should want Louis to get out from his apartment; leave Harry alone like Harry told him to. 

“I think you don’t mean that,” Louis says, his voice muffled by something. His hands? 

“No, stay, explain me,” Harry isn’t sure what Louis should explain. What happened last night? Or what happened between them? When Harry thinks about how everything came down between them, he doesn’t get angry. He doesn’t get disappointed or confused. He just wants to know. He feels calm, he just wants to find out more. 

“Explain you what?” Louis’ voice turns towards Harry. 

“How you’re here, what happened last night?” Harry is too afraid to talk about the more pressing issue. For a while Harry thinks Louis is just going to stand up and leave. Say goodbye and tell Harry to find out on his own. But he doesn’t. Louis crawls next to Harry and lays back down. Harry feels a sudden urge to turn around. He wants to know if he can see Louis’ wings again like he has seen in his dreams. 

Every moment Harry has spent with Louis has replayed in his dreams. Every moment has been the same except Louis has been the real him. Louis has had his wings on his back and it has given the moment away. Louis isn’t like Harry, he’s not normal like everyone else. Also, if Harry turns around now and sees Louis’ wings, he knows this is just a dream. 

 

Harry closes his eyes and slowly turns around. He has an odd feeling in his head, like his brain isn’t going to follow with his movements and they’re going to turn more slowly than Harry’s body. His insides feel heavy, like it’d be filled with rocks. Harry doesn’t want to open his eyes. He’s afraid he’ll see those wings. Or the blood. An image flashes to his mind. Broken Louis stood on the street. The image is terrifying; Harry can’t get rid of it even if he’s trying to bring back the image of Louis with wings. 

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis chuckles, not mockingly, just curious. 

“What am I doing then?” Harry asks, covering his other eye with his hand. The other side of his face is pressed against the pillow, preventing him from opening his eye. He wants to get rid of the gory image. 

“Why are you hiding behind your hand?” Louis asks. His voice sounds like he’s far away. Maybe Louis isn’t there at all, maybe Harry is imagining everything. Maybe everything that has happened tonight has been only a nightmare; like a movie which escalated to something Harry will have to go through only in daylight. Maybe he imagined everything. Those teenagers and Caden and the cherry drinks. Nothing was real; that might be the truth. 

“This isn’t happening, is it?” Harry asks, mostly from the pillow. 

“Harry,” Louis sighs, almost disappointedly. Harry can feel his hand being removed from his face gently. So it might be true. But it still could be a dream. When Harry opens his eyes, he could see white wings or beat up Louis. 

“You aren’t tripping anymore,” Louis says, holding Harry’s hand in his. He links his fingers between Harry’s, softly holding him and giving Harry time to encourage himself. Tripping? 

“What do you mean?” Harry finally peeks his eyes open, seeing Louis in front of him. No bloody cuts or wounds cover his body. There’s no wings on his back. He’s really there. 

“I think your date drugged you,” Louis says as if Harry would’ve already known that.

“I guess that explains a lot,” Harry stares past Louis, realizing that everything he saw wasn’t real. There was no stars, no melting bodies, or monsters trying to take him home. 

 

“But you were there?” Louis looks at Harry for a moment as if he’d be frozen. Then he nods, blinking a few times. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis apologizes. 

“For what?” 

“That I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

Louis has been watching Harry? 

“You’ve been stalking me?” 

“No, no, it’s more like an angel thing,” Louis chuckles embarrassedly, avoiding Harry’s gaze. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You see, some might be said to be like guardian angels and I couldn’t just leave you even though I know you didn’t want me in your life anymore. But I’ve just been making sure you’re safe and I’m sorry that I’ve been doing that. I shouldn’t have,” Louis seems genuine. It does seem weird that someone has been following Harry, even though it would’ve been only to keep Harry safe. 

“I can take care of myself,” Harry reminds Louis. Should he just tell Louis to go? It does seem like the right thing to do. They can’t be friends anymore. 

“And I know that, I just… I don’t know… I care, okay, I care about you and I just couldn’t forget you,” Louis confesses, letting go of Harry’s hand and stuffing his own hand under his head. He leaves Harry speechless. He cares and he couldn’t leave just because he cares. Now it’s Harry’s turn to be in loss for words. What is he supposed to say to that? 

He doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s the drugs, maybe it’s because he’s still drunk, but he starts to cry and he feels embarrassed. Why is he crying? Harry can’t contain the tears that are flowing like little rivers from his eyes and wetting his pillow like it wouldn’t be uncomfortably moist already. He closes his eyes and wishes he would just stop crying and he could deal with things like a sane person. 

 

“Why are you crying?” Louis asks and when Harry opens his eyes to look at Louis, he has a silly small smile on his face which tells him Louis actually does care and he isn’t playing any games or trying to fool Harry into some trap. 

“Are you my guardian angel?” Harry sobs out. He feels weak crying like this. He knows his face is all snotty and he almost covers his face again, but Louis takes his hand into his. 

“I guess you could say that,” he smiles calmly. The look in his eyes calms Harry too. The worst is over. 

“Let me get you some tissue, to dry your eyes,” Louis gets out of the bed, leaving Harry to catch his breath. Some sobs still shake his body, but the tears have dried. 

“Here you go,” Louis comes back, handing Harry the paper. Harry wipes his face, trying to keep some of his dignity while blowing his nose. 

“Is this toilet paper?” 

“I couldn’t find anything else,” Louis defends himself. Harry smiles, looking down and almost closing his eyes. 

 

“Have you been following me since the fight?” Harry asks, seriously wanting to get some answers. He feels brave with all the alcohol still in his blood and he wants to know more. What is Louis like, who is this angel guy? 

“Not for the first couple of days, I was trying to let go. But then I saw you and decided to… I don’t know, look after you or something,” Louis doesn’t let go of Harry’s eye contact. Maybe Harry shouldn’t even be having this conversation with Louis right now. Maybe he’s still too drunk, maybe they should move this to tomorrow morning. Though when Harry looks towards the windows which are spinning because of the drug, he can see light already streaming inside. 

“What’s the time?” Harry asks out of nowhere. He can see Louis wasn’t expecting that question either, he was ready for some more serious stuff. 

“I’m not sure, maybe 5 in the morning,” Louis shrugs his other shoulder. 

 

“So you were there when you saw Caden bringing me out from the pub?” Harry decides to get back to the real things. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to talk like this if he’d be completely sober. 

“He dragged you out of there,” Louis chuckles, shaking his head slightly. 

“What?” 

“You were so out from your mind, when I saw you. I don’t know what he gave you, but it wasn’t some normal drug. You looked like you were having a stroke and enjoying it. You kept looking at the ground and reaching towards it and then you saw the sky and tried to grab it with your hand. You were also talking, but I guess even he couldn’t understand what you were on about,” Louis tells Harry. It might sound funny to him, but Harry feels more terrified than amused. 

“What did I do when you came?” Harry doesn’t smile even though Louis does. 

“You kept humming and pulling in different directions, I don’t know… it seemed like you were going to come and hug me, but then that guy kept you still and then you tried to pull away from him and then you tried to go further away from me. It was all very weird. And when… Then you started laughing when he let go of you. You were laying on the ground and you kept laughing like you had heard the funniest joke on this planet,” Louis tells Harry. Something twists his face and he doesn’t smile while he speaks even though it looked like he was going to smile through his words. 

 

“How did you get me home?” 

“I gave you a piggyback ride,” Louis smiles proudly. It also makes Harry smile, but then he realizes what he thought. He was flying. 

“The wings…” He slowly says, staring at nothing. 

“What?” 

“No, it’s nothing, forget it,” Harry shakes his head. He can’t forget the feeling of flying, he is sure he felt like he was flying high above the ground. Was he picturing Louis with the wings or himself with the wings? Did he see Louis saving him as an angel? 

“I guess you thought you were flying?” Louis says, almost like he’d hear Harry’s thoughts. 

“Why?” 

“You kept opening up your arms and moving them like you would’ve been in Swan Lake,” Louis chuckles lightly, but his eyes keep studying Harry’s reactions. 

“Hmmm,” Harry hums, thinking back to that moment. He’s sure he saw wings on his back, but he’s also sure he saw wings on Louis. Maybe he should just forget it, but it felt too real. 

 

“What happened to Caden?” Harry asks, thinking this has to be the last question. He’s getting tired of talking. He wants to just close his eyes and forget this night. Harry thinks Louis is going to answer right away like he did to his other questions, but Louis closes his mouth into a tight line. His face hardens and Harry could actually imagine all the cuts and bruises on Louis’ skin. He doesn’t look like himself. 

“Did you do something to him?” 

“I never, ever, resort in violence. But he wasn’t going to let you go so I had to make him…” Louis’ speech gets incredibly slow at the end of the sentence. Make him? Harry raises his brows, waiting to hear more. 

“I might’ve hit him a few times and I never meant to be so brutal, but he kept pulling you and… After I had hit him I just wanted to take you away… he was going to follow, but I think he fell,” Louis looks terrified of his own words. 

“I know he’s alright, but I still didn’t want to do it. I’ve never hit a guy, even in my previous life and now I’m doing this… I was just so angry I… I couldn’t keep it in,” Louis gets lost in his own thoughts and tries to keep it together, but he can’t. 

“Thank you,” Harry says, not knowing what he’s thanking for.

“I mean, I don’t want anyone to get hurt. But you kind of saved me,” Harry exhales. He doesn’t give Caden a thought, he doesn’t care how he’s doing, if he’s alright. Harry takes Louis’ hand from under his head into his and examines it. His knuckles are clean and there’s no bruises or cuts. What if Louis didn’t use this hand? Harry reaches for Louis’ other hand. He brings it closer and finds the knuckles and the whole back of his hand bruised. Some cuts are scraping the highest peaks of Louis’ knuckles, but he has cleaned them and they don’t look so bad. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“No,” Louis shakes his head. Harry turns his hand around and can still see the imprints from Louis’ short nails dug to his palm. 

“How’s that possible?” 

“Because I can’t really feel anything,” Louis says, which brings Harry’s eyes from his hand to his eyes. 

“Not a single thing?” 

“No,” Louis says truthfully, almost as if he’d be scared of what he’s saying. 

“Is it an angel thing?” 

“I guess so.” 

 

Harry keeps staring at Louis’ hand. It looks like it’s glowing in the dim light. Or maybe it’s still the drugs. Louis’ hand looks soft and it’s feather light against Harry’s hand. Harry turns it over and watches the life lines on Louis’ palm. His skin looks like it’s made out of snow even though it’s warm against Harry’s skin. Harry brings Louis’ hand closer to his face, smelling Louis’ hand. His skin has a very light, sweet scent. Like a fresh wind would’ve washed his hands. 

Harry touches the back of Louis’ hand to his cheek, closing his eyes. He can see the glow getting stronger, seeing the white wings in his mind once again. When he slowly opens his eyes, Louis is staring at Harry and what he’s doing in awe. His mouth is half open and he looks like someone would’ve woken him up and the dream he would’ve seen had turned into real life. There’s nothing normal in Louis, Harry thinks. He’s not like everyone else and it can’t be just an angel thing. 

Harry keeps watching Louis while he drags Louis’ hand towards his mouth. Harry’s lips touch the snow like skin and kisses it lightly. Louis doesn’t even blink when he feels Harry’s hot breath against the back of his hand or against his fingertips when Harry kisses every single one of them. He’s careful not to touch the cuts on Louis’ knuckles while he keeps stroking Louis’ hand against his skin. 

Louis shudders and Harry watches how colour spreads to Louis’ cheeks. Louis blinks for the first time. There's a sparkle in his eyes, which Harry hasn't noticed before. Louis breathes irregularly, short gasps escaping his mouth. 

 

Harry doesn’t know why he’s doing it. Or where it’s all coming from. He keeps touching Louis’ hand and it feels like the most intimate thing he has ever done with anyone. It brings butterflies to his stomach and he feels like he’s in some story where the people do the most romantic things ever. Harry knows nothing is going to happen, but this feels like he has told Louis the darkest secrets of his life and every little detail and obsessive habit Harry has. 

Louis closes his fingers around Harry’s hand when Harry keeps tracing the lifelines on his palm and the veins on his wrist. Harry takes a risk and moves closer, his face so close to Louis’ face he can feel every exhale coming from Louis’ mouth. He rests his head against Louis’ pillow. Their foreheads touch as Harry cranes his neck and touches his lips lightly against Louis’. He doesn’t move away even though Louis winces away just a little. 

Harry imagines Louis to be a bird, a white bird which is extremely sensitive to any sound or touch. The bird will fly away if someone gets close and it’ll disappear if someone finds out something of its life. Louis rests his head back against the pillow, his hand still gently clutching Harry’s fingers inside his palm. He touches his forehead against Harry’s and closes his eyes. He breathes in through his nose and out from his mouth. Harry doesn’t do anything, he doesn’t want to scare the bird away. 

Louis’ nose comes in contact with Harry’s. He lightly bumps it with his own, which makes Harry giggle silently. Louis smiles and keeps touching his nose against Harry’s nose and cheek. Harry closes his eyes and thinks about first snow. How it feels on his skin when it rains down slowly, swirling in the air. Every little snowflake has a different pattern and they play in the air, like they’d be chasing each other before they hit the ground and melt away. Harry can feel Louis’ breathing against his mouth and waits for the snowflakes to embrace his lips. When Louis gently kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth, Harry is the ground and Louis is the snowflake. Soft; like magic. 

Louis lets go of Harry’s hand and pulls it away. Harry opens his eyes, seeing Louis staring at Harry, like he’d be counting Harry’s eyelashes. He looks like he’s trying to decide something and he can only find the answer from Harry’s eyes. He smiles and brings his hand up to Harry’s neck. His palm listens to Harry’s heartbeat under his skin, which seems to be the answer. 

Louis smiles like he’d be from a summer dream; hazy and filled with sunsets and heat. He pulls Harry closer, sealing his lips with Harry’s, his palm staying on Harry’s neck the whole time. His fingers twirl Harry’s curls and grab a handful while Harry’s heart beats in rhythm with the kisses. Harry feels like he’s a teenager again; he feels the rush and he feels like he’s doing something he shouldn’t, but he’s still doing it because he wants to. It’s not the same kind of rush which he felt with Caden. His kisses felt dangerous and wrong. Louis’ kisses are light and happy and they make Harry smile into them and they get heated very fast and then they turn into snowflakes which Harry can only adore. 

 

When Harry has fallen back asleep, Louis keeps him in his arms. He can’t sleep and even if he could sleep, he wouldn’t want to fall asleep. He can’t stop thinking about his heart’s slow beats and the way his body heated while Harry’s hand was resting on Louis’ waist. The feeling of having someone so close was the wakeup call. 

Louis knows he has to let go. But that’s not the part which makes Louis sad and his eyes pool with tears which don’t fall. The feeling of his heart makes him sad. The feeling of having his heart in a safe place is the one feeling he doesn’t want to let go. And now, when he has to leave for good, he only knows he’s breaking his own heart and he won’t ever feel it being fixed. 

He also knows he doesn’t just care about Harry. He knows he loves Harry. That’s the second part. He never felt that with Jeremy when he was still alive. He can remember thinking about it. He can remember feeling excited when he saw Jeremy; all the sparks that flew when he was kissing Jeremy. But it wasn’t the same as it’s with Harry. With Harry it feels like Louis belongs here, in this man’s arms and in this man’s thoughts and here with him. With Harry he’s not afraid of anything. Not afraid of the future or the thoughts if it’s going to last. With Harry, Louis is in his happy place, where he can be himself and he doesn’t have to play to be someone else. 

He has to let that go. 

“Louis?” Harry says suddenly, Louis’ eyes drifting to Harry. 

“What?” 

“You know you trapped me, right?” 

“What you mean?” 

“You did make me fall for you,” Harry confesses and it breaks Louis’ heart into millions of pieces which he’d want to try to pick up and piece back together. But he can only nod, knowing that he can’t do anything to make the pain go away. Not from Harry’s heart or from his own. He can only watch the pieces lay on the floor and fly away with the wind, which will eventually take Louis too. 

 

\- - 

 

When Harry wakes up, the sun is already shining brightly. He’s not sure if last night’s events really happened, but he’s absolutely certain he was at the bar. His headache is killing him and it doesn’t end with that; his mouth is dry like sandpaper. His stomach is protesting and telling Harry to get up and throw up. 

Harry kind of hoped his last memory would’ve been true. The part about Louis. Harry wishes he would’ve been here, but now there’s no signs of him in Harry’s bed. Thinking about him makes Harry push every nauseous feeling away from his thoughts and he can only wonder if he imagined it all. Despite the bright sunshine in his apartment, Harry squints his eyes and sits up. This has to be the worst hungover ever. 

“You’re up,” a quiet sound points out. Harry startles from the sound, his eyes finding Louis walking from the kitchen. He smiles, his lips twitching up and giving up. His tired eyes look at Harry for a moment, the air standing still. Time doesn’t have a meaning anymore. Everything’s just completely unmoving. Harry is almost terrified of what is going on. He didn’t imagine it. Louis is here, in his apartment, he must’ve been in Harry’s bed. Kissing Harry. His heart starts to pound in his chest, he can feel his cheeks warming up. 

“Morning,” Harry offers, shyness making his hands and legs shake. Louis’ face twists with hopelessness, before he turns away and goes to the window. He hugs himself tightly, his head tilting to the side when he’s looking at something. 

“It’s afternoon, actually,” Louis corrects Harry. 

“How long did I sleep?” Harry stumbles up, trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside. 

“I don’t know. I only know that it’s almost four,” Louis sounds like something’s bothering him. He seems like he’s in another time and place, his body just happens to be trapped in Harry’s apartment. 

“I need to…” Harry tries to warn before he’s already running into the toilet. He throws up violently, cold sweat breaking through his skin and making everything slippery to hold onto. His throat stings from the acids and his eyes burn from the tears they spill. 

 

Harry rests on the floor for a moment before he knows it’s over. He feels a lot better already, the only thing that bothers him is his headache. And Louis. He can’t hear any sounds from the rest of the apartment, which is almost eerie. All Harry knows, Louis could’ve already left, without a sound, without a goodbye. But if Louis is still in here, Harry doesn’t want to go out there in his last night’s clothes and flat hair which has caught all the sweat from last night. 

He takes a quick shower and washes his teeth, changing his clothes to something more relaxed. A t-shirt and sweats hang on the door, while Harry throws his jeans and black button up into the laundry hamper. He peeks outside, seeing Louis standing by the kitchen island, clutching a cup of tea between his hands. 

“I kind of thought you had left,” Harry admits when he walks out from the toilet and sits on one of the stools. 

“Would you like me to go?” Louis looks up from his mug. Harry can’t decide if Louis looks more tired or like he’d be surrendering to something Harry has no idea of. 

“No, I hoped you were here and now you’re standing here and…” Harry’s mouth can’t stop rambling and when he realizes he has nothing clever to say, he shuts his mouth while his cheeks catch that red colour again. Louis smiles more genuinely this time, looking back towards his tea. 

“You want some?” He offers, taking out a mug already. Harry nods and watches while Louis pours him the dark coloured hot drink.

“Thanks,” he takes the mug between his hands, almost mirroring Louis’ hold on his drink. 

“It’s nice,” Harry compliments. He feels so dumb sitting in front of Louis and not saying a thing. Things have changed between them, shifted in some way. Before they were very close, never feeling awkward around each other. Though when they touched, even in accident, everything stood still and gave them a chance to explore the possibility of getting even closer. But they were able to move forward, push those moments out from their minds and keep on going as close friends. Now Louis can’t even look Harry in the eye, he’s so distant and guarded. 

 

“Is it like an angel thing? To make good tea?” Harry tries to lighten the mood between them. He can’t take the silence, it’s too distressing. Louis’ eyes snap to Harry, but his face isn’t lightened with a smile. He looks almost terrified. 

“I’m sorry…” Harry breathes out, wanting to say something more, but doesn’t know what he should say. He lets go of his mug and slumps down to rest his forehead against his stacked arms on the table. 

“Everything was so much easier in the dark,” Harry admits and closes his eyes. What is he supposed to say to Louis? Tell Louis that he loves him? Tell Louis everything he feels? Tell jokes? Talk about everything else other than last night? Or the fight between them? 

“It always is,” Louis says quietly. Harry can hear him sipping his tea and swallowing it. 

“And no, it’s not an angel thing,” Louis answers hesitantly, which almost makes Harry happy. 

 

“What do you do then, what is your angel thing? Other than following me around?” Harry lifts his head from his arms and rests his chin onto his hand. Louis smiles down at his tea and almost like he’s trying to decide what to tell Harry. Then he looks up, a tired smile on his face. 

“When I can go home and see my dad,” he says and the smile vanishes. Harry was expecting an answer which would’ve included fairy dust or matchmaking and Louis would’ve showed his bow and arrow which he’d use to shoot love potions to people. Or simply flying. Louis has never talked about his family and how could’ve he? He would’ve been exposed; everything might be a lot different if Louis would’ve told Harry he’s an angel when they first met. Harry would’ve laughed at his face and walked away, moving forward with his life and still wouldn’t have a real recording deal. 

“Does your dad know you visit him?” 

“No, he can’t know. But we help him sleep,” Louis takes another sip from his tea. 

“We?” 

“Me and mum. She likes to be there with him because that’s our home and now he’s alone. So we try to calm him,” Louis shakes his head, sighing out a long breath. 

“Is that like an angel thing? You make people calm?” Harry thinks back to last night. If he would’ve been alone, he sure would’ve had a panic attack over what had happened to him and if he should’ve expected something to still happen to him. But with Louis around, he didn’t panic. He was able to calm down even though his head was a mess. 

“I guess it is,” a couple of wrinkles form between Louis’ brows when he pulls them together and an unexpected smile graces his face. 

 

“What happens now?” Harry asks when he finishes his tea. Maybe Louis will stay over, lay in bed with Harry and they can talk about everything. Louis could tell Harry something about himself. If he’d even talk; it doesn’t matter what he’d talk about, but if he’d be talking, Harry wouldn’t mind. He likes listening to Louis’ voice. 

“I have to go.” 

“Oh,” Harry isn’t afraid to show his disappointment. 

“Look…” Louis drags his hand from his face to his hair, trying to find the right words. 

“When we had that fight, I knew something back then, which I didn’t tell you about,” he says and swallows. Harry is ready for whatever is going to come out of Louis’ mouth. 

“I’m supposed to go,” Louis only says, like Harry would know what that means. 

“Okay, well, when are you coming back?” 

“No, I mean… When you would’ve fallen for me, I’m supposed to go.” 

The same hopelessness returns into Louis’ eyes. 

 

“You mean you’re not coming back?” Louis shakes his head at Harry’s question. Harry doesn’t know what he should say. Last night kind of proved to him that he shouldn’t be afraid to feel something towards others. That he should let someone in, he should be available, not only physically but also mentally. 

“So now you have to leave?” Louis nods again, avoiding Harry’s gaze. 

“Am I going to see you anymore?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know where I’m going next, if this was it. If I’m going to move forward or whatever it’s called. Or then I’ll stick around and look after you, but I have to stay away. I have to let go, so at some point…” 

“It’s an angel thing,” Harry utters, like it’d be the clearest of things in the whole wide world. 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis suddenly asks, like the whole question would disappear from his mind if he wouldn’t be quick enough. Harry nods, Louis starting his question as soon as Harry’s head moves in agreement. 

“Why didn’t you react to the whole angel thing when I told you the truth? Why didn’t you say anything about that? Why do you act like it’s the most normal thing?” The questions flow from Louis’ mouth in one long sentence. 

“I don’t know. I guess it’s the dreams,” Harry says, starting to think about it. Why didn’t he react to the angel thing more aggressively, why didn’t he say Louis is lying or say that angels don’t exist? 

“Dreams?” 

“I’ve been seeing these dreams of you… I mean of the times when we’ve been together. And in every dream you’ve had wings. I guess you explained the dreams to me when you said you’re an angel,” Harry is almost proud of his deduction skills. Especially with a headache from hell. Louis doesn’t say anything about it though, only stares at Harry for a while, like he’d try to read Harry’s mind. Maybe see the same dreams Harry has seen. 

 

Louis goes to put on his shoes and jacket. He turns towards Harry, who is sitting by the counter and watching Louis do something so trivial that he doesn’t even realize what’s happening. 

“Wait, you’re leaving now? Right now? This is the last time when we see each other?” Harry moves like he’d be in an art movie where everything moves in slow motion. 

“I can’t stay anymore,” Louis swallows, clearly upset. 

“Where are you going? Are you seeing your mum? Are you going to tell her your little plan worked out?” Harry doesn’t know why he’s bringing it up. He can see the questions upsetting Louis, almost like he would’ve stabbed Louis. 

“I don’t know where I’m going, but I also know I’m not going to see my mum. I don’t want to fight right now,” Louis talks like he’d want to get the words out as soon as possible. Like they’d burn his mouth. 

“You’re not talking to your mum?” 

“No! I hate her, I have nothing to say to her. She ruined my life, literally,” Louis is getting really upset, his voice gets high and rough at the same time. 

 

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes, moving closer to Louis. The sad feeling Louis is having catches to Harry. This is it. Apparently he’s losing a friend for good and Harry is afraid to admit that he does love Louis. But what can he do? There’s nothing that would change Louis’ mind, they live in different worlds. Louis has to go and Harry hopes it all would’ve been only a dream which he could wake up from and keep on going with this life he’s now living. Not the one before Louis. He was too miserable then. He wants to live a life where he could be happy even though Louis wouldn’t be in it. 

Louis comes to stand in front of Harry. The sadness from his eyes disappears for a moment and he smiles like they’d meet again. 

“Don’t get yourself in danger, Harry. I mean it. And maybe I’ll see you again at some point, let’s not say goodbye for good, okay,” Louis takes Harry’s hand into his and Harry can feel sparks flying inside of him and on his skin where Louis is touching him. Then Harry remembers. He looks down and takes both of Louis’ hands into his hands. They’re perfect, no cuts or bruises decorate Louis’ skin anymore. 

“Was it an angel thing?” He asks, looking into Louis’ eyes. 

“It was,” Louis smiles, blinking a few times. Harry would want to lean in and kiss Louis, make it something memorable. He can’t trust Louis’ word. They might not see each other ever again. This might be their final goodbye. He doesn’t want to regret not kissing Louis because he wants to do it. Louis looks down at Harry’s lips, sadness in his eyes once again. 

 

“I have to go,” he says, letting go of Harry’s hands. 

“I lov…” Louis’ face says it all. He can’t say the word. Harry can’t say it. They feel it, but they can’t say it out loud because nothing could never happen between them. Louis has to leave, Harry has to live. 

Louis only opens the door, not waiting for Harry to say something. Not even a “bye, Louis”. He shuts the door after himself, his heart hammering hard in his chest. Louis has to get out. He goes to the stairs, his eyes drifting to look at Harry’s door. No one comes out. Louis moves one flight of stairs at a time and then he stops to listen. If he could hear Harry running after him. If he could hear a door opening. He reaches the building’s door and no one is stopping him from opening it. Louis closes his eyes with his hand against the door. He counts to ten, waiting to hear something. But nothing happens, he’s free to go. 

 

Louis steps out onto the street. He runs to the other side of the street, the urge to look up winning. He gives Harry’s windows a look, seeing Harry already looking at Louis. He can see the same pain reflected on Harry’s face, which he feels all over his body. 

Harry closes the curtains, disappearing from view. It’s like Louis would’ve lost a connection. He has to look where he’s going, he has to move with the people on the street. He has to keep on walking and not look back, because he’s sure he might run back and kiss Harry. Tell him that he loves Harry, that Louis loves Harry. It’s not just some feeling which might go away in a few years when things have settled down and the everyday life has begun. Louis knows that last night left an eternal scar in him and now when he has to go, it aches, like he would’ve left his body and soul at Harry’s, but he has to go nonetheless. 

He hopes Harry will be happy, at least at some point. Louis knows this is going to be his end. He didn’t only lose his life. Now he has lost his heart too and he can’t go and get it back. Harry has to take care of it and he doesn’t even know it. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis keeps following Harry. He doesn’t know what else to do with his days, where to go or who to see. He hopes Harry knows he’s around, even though Louis can’t just walk up to him and let Harry know he’s still around. He almost feels dumb following Harry, like he’d be some creepy stalker who can’t get enough of Harry. That’s almost true, he can’t get enough of Harry. 

It’s almost like watching a huge cupcake walk down the street and Louis has been craving that cupcake since he was born. Harry-cupcake is frosted decadently, a fresh strawberry laying on top of the fluffy frosting. Louis can only imagine what it’d be like to finally get to the cupcake and get a taste. Of course he wouldn’t eat it right away, he’d want to treasure the beauty and… 

Louis might be going crazy. He’s standing on the street, watching Harry run his errands and going to meetings at the record company. And all Louis can think is a cupcake with Harry’s face on it. He has to get a grip. It can’t go on like this; maybe he should try to actually get out of here, move on from this city and finally disappear like dead people are meant to. 

 

It’s proved he can’t do it. For almost three weeks Louis follows Harry where ever he goes, being like a lost puppy who can’t go to his owner. It starts to drain him; the feeling of having no one to talk with or doing anything else other than walking in someone’s footsteps. The other part that is extremely hard is seeing Harry so tired. It’s actually the hardest part. Harry is trying so hard to do his normal things, keep on living while he looks like he’s in actual pain, suffering from a disease which no one can cure. 

Louis actually thinks he needs help. He doesn’t know what he should do next? Is he supposed to spend the rest of Harry’s life watching over him? Or is he supposed to leave? Actually leave, abandon breathing and walking amongst the living? When he sees Donna, he knows he doesn’t want her help. She keeps popping up at the oddest of times, usually when Louis is waiting for Harry to show up from somewhere. She keeps her distance, she doesn’t force her presence; she knows Louis doesn’t want to talk to her. But she keeps reappearing, even though Louis wishes she wouldn’t. 

 

It’s a sunny day, people are dressed in their summer clothes and the air is getting warmer and warmer. Louis has been making sure Harry doesn’t get hit by a car or meet people who want to harm him. Donna has been making sure Louis still doesn’t want to talk to her. Louis can sense her, feel her calmness in the air even though she’s far away. The day goes on like that, hours passing and the sun sweeping past the sky, the morning turning to midday. 

Harry has been at home for a long while now, but Louis can’t go anywhere. Donna is watching him, keeping him pinned to his place at the other side of the street. It makes Louis furious to even see his mum. He’s hurting and Louis isn’t afraid to blame her. She’s the target of Louis’ verbal hate going on in his head. He’s ready to go and say everything what is going on in his mind straight to her face. He’s not afraid of his mum, he’s not afraid of being honest. He’s ready. If he’d be living, he’d have adrenaline coursing through his veins and making him dizzy. 

Until a familiar looking person approaches him and walks straight past him. She doesn’t know him. But he knows her. Louis gives his mum a warning look, Donna can’t follow him now. Louis turns away and starts to follow the young woman, who has long, dark brown hair. She’s wearing black shorts and a blue top. She’s carrying a bouquet of flowers, like she would’ve just picked them from a meadow. Her hair is in perfect waves, it has to be naturally like that. She walks gracefully with her head held high. She radiates confidence, which is such a contrast compared to Donna, who always makes Louis feel bad about himself. Being around her, even though he’s still far away, makes Louis feel like he could do anything. 

She’s almost identical to Harry even though she doesn’t look like him. There’s just a quality about her, which reminds Louis of Harry. She’s the female version of Harry. There’s no doubt she’s Marie. Louis isn’t sure how he should approach her, or if he should even approach her. He has now followed her for quite a while already and he can’t back down now. He has to do something. She stops at a little outdoor boutique which sells old postcards. This has to be the moment. 

 

“Marie?” Louis goes to her, a smile on his face. He’s not sure how he should continue. She turns around, large black sunglasses on her face. Her mouth is the same shape as Harry’s, which almost terrifies Louis.

“Yes?” She hugs the flowers against her chest. 

“This is kind of weird, but do you happen to have a brother?” As soon as Louis says the word brother, she bites her teeth together. She nods tentatively. Louis can sense her guards coming up, trying to protect herself just like Harry always did. 

“Hi, I’m Louis,” he steps forward and reaches his hand out. She looks at it, but she’s not as delighted as Louis is. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know you and I really need to get going. It was nice meeting you, Louis… But I really need to go,” she talks fast, way faster than Harry. Her voice is soft and kind of low, it’s pleasant to listen to. She backs out and starts to walk away, the flowers still clutched against her chest. 

“Marie, please, wait,” Louis runs after her, but she’s faster than he expected. Even though she’s walking, Louis is having a hard time keeping up. Damn his short legs, Louis thinks. 

“Wait! You don’t know me, but I know your brother!” Louis tries, which seems to affect her in some way. She slows her pace down just a notch, but Louis still has to run to get to her. 

 

“I just want to talk, please,” Louis tries and almost crashes to her, when she suddenly stops. She turns around and Louis can only wish she’s not glaring at him. 

“What do you want to talk about? If you know my brother, then go talk with him,” she says, the protective barrier around her strong and pushing Louis away. 

“Well it’s a bit complicated, but I’d really want to talk with you.” 

“About what? You don’t know me and I don’t know you, simple as that. We don’t have to talk,” she already turns away, when Louis grabs her arm. She turns back around, while staring down at her arm. 

“Sorry… Look, I need you to do something for me or for Harry, but please hear me out,” Louis pleads, hoping she will say yes. She stares at him for a moment, before she sighs. 

“What do you want?” 

“Could we go and grab some tea or something? It’s a bit hard to talk here on the street,” Louis smiles gently, pointing towards a café that is on the other side of the street. 

“I don’t see a problem talking on the street,” she says after examining the café. 

“Please, Marie, it’s very important and I wish we could go and sit down, please,” Louis knows this is his last chance. The dark sunglasses protect Marie and Louis feels uncomfortable not seeing her eyes. 

“I don’t have much time before I really have to get going,” she says, letting Louis lead them to the café. 

 

“You want tea? It’s on me,” Louis goes to the counter, the young girl behind the cash register smiling at the two. 

“Just a water for me,” Marie says, looking around the café. 

“Okay, well a water for her and a Yorkshire tea for me,” Louis smiles and pays for their drinks. Marie goes to sit by one of the table, setting the flowers from her hand carefully on the surface. Louis sets the water before her, smiling and trying to collect his thoughts. 

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Louis asks, hoping to make some sort of connection with Marie. She shakes her head, taking a sip from her water. Louis exhales a silent “okay”, drinking from his tea which is still too hot. 

 

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Marie asks after Louis still hasn’t said anything.

“So I know Harry and it was a complete accident for me to see you here. He has told me a lot about you and… He misses you, Marie. He’s going through something and I can’t be there for him…” 

“Why not?” Her question comes out of her mouth like a bullet. 

“Well… It’s a bit hard for me to explain. Uhh, I’m… I’m going away and I can’t see Harry anymore…” 

“Is there something wrong with your eyes?” She asks, a small smile on her lips. Her questions seems to crack Louis’ nervousness. He chuckles, and a sudden urge to tell her the truth takes over his mind. He knows he can’t tell her anything, this is like being with Harry all over again. He can’t tell Marie the truth, but he wants to be as honest as possible. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my eyes,” Louis smiles at her. She smiles back, taking her sunglasses off. Her eyes are just like Harry’s, innocent and big and beautiful. Louis starts to miss Harry even more when he sees someone who resembles Harry so much, in front of him. 

“It’s just a bit hard to explain. We agreed to not meet anymore because it’ll just make everything harder when I have to go and I know that he’s not doing great.” 

Louis feels like he’s begging for something. It’s hard to talk about Harry to Marie, when he knows their history. She’s such an important person to Harry even after all this time without seeing each other. 

 

“What do you want me to do?” She asks, taking Louis even more seriously than Louis expected she would. 

“You have to understand I’m not trying to force you to do anything if you don’t want to be in contact with him. I just thought, and I know it’s none of my business to meddle with your relationship… But if you could go and meet him? I know it’d make him so much happier, he needs someone who he could talk to,” Louis can see his words affecting Marie immediately. She looks like Louis is bringing out everything from her past, digging out secrets she wouldn’t want to deal with anymore. She sips her water, clearly thinking about Louis’ suggestion. 

“What are you to him?” Marie asks suddenly, taking Louis by surprise. He opens his mouth and closes it after he realizes he doesn’t know how to answer her. She’s waiting for an answer though. 

“We…” Louis looks past Marie and tilts his head. As if he’d try to look behind a curtain where all the answers are. 

“We care about each other, but we’re only good friends at this point,” Louis tells her diplomatically. 

“You love him?” She asks, raising her brows. Louis bows his head down, looking at the tea. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, he doesn’t want to make it even harder than it already is. But he also knows Marie already can see the answer from his reaction. Louis nods his head, not sure why she needs to ask these kinds of questions. 

“But you can’t be with him?” Her questions become too hard for Louis. He’d want to scream and run to Harry’s. He wants to push the buzzer long enough that Harry would let him inside. Then Louis would run the stairs up and hold Harry the way he deserves to be held. But the screaming in his head evaporates into an echo. 

“No, I can’t and it’s bad for us both. But I think he needs someone by his side, to keep him hopeful of the future, encourage him forward and give him something else to think about,” Louis hopes she won’t ask another question which is as personal as the previous one. 

 

“Do you want me to say something to him, from you? A hello or something?” She asks, confusing Louis even more. Would he want to send some sort of a message to Harry? Can he do that? Until he realizes the true meaning.

“You’d be ready to go meet him?” Louis’ hands smack flat against the table. 

“I’ve been meant to go and see him for a while now. I miss him too, you know, it’s not only him who misses their sibling,” Marie smiles gently, taking the flowers from the table. She finishes her water and stands up. 

“You’re going already?” 

“I have to, I’m meant to be somewhere soon,” she puts on her sunglasses, standing by the table for a moment without saying a word. She’s waiting. 

“Tell him I said hi and… Just tell him I said hi,” Louis would want to add so much, but he knows he can’t. He’s supposed to move forward, leave everything behind and go away. 

“Okay,” Marie smiles, and she reminds Louis of Harry even more. She’s ready to go, but she hesitates.

“It was nice meeting you, Louis, I hope we’ll meet again,” she says sincerely, before she turns around and leaves Louis sitting alone. Louis watches her disappear to the crowded street. Louis can’t stop thinking about the moment when Marie is going to Harry’s. He’d want to be there, see Harry’s face. He’s going to be so happy. But Louis can’t and he can only wish Harry knows how much Louis misses him. 

 

\- - - -

 

Harry is writing a song. At least he was writing a song. But it turned into him staring at the wall with a guitar on his lap. He thought he had inspiration for writing, but then it escaped and now he can’t catch it again. He has a paper in front of him, with the word “he” scribbled carefully on the top. He doesn’t really know where he was taking the song. Maybe it’ll be just that one word and a single chord, nothing else. Maybe it doesn’t need anything else. Harry stares at the word and pulls the strings of his guitar all at the same time, making a noise which doesn’t sound music. Just noise which actually suits with the word. It’s almost like his guitar would cry the word out; his guitar is missing Louis too, great. 

A knock from the door pulls Harry from his thoughts. He looks up, staring at the door’s way from his couch, not doing a thing to get up and open it. When the visitor knocks on his door again, he stands up and places his guitar on the couch. He’s not expecting anyone. He walks slowly and opens the door. He gets his hopes up, thinking it could be the person he has seen in his dreams so often. But it’s not. 

Right in front of him is his sister. She stands there, innocently, her hands clasped together in front of her and a small bouquet of blue flowers make the moment a little more surreal. She has a smile on her face, almost a shocked smile. Maybe she didn’t think Harry would look like this after all this time. 

 

“Marie?” Harry asks, not believing his eyes. 

“Hi Harry,” she says and as soon she has said his name, Harry crashes to her arms, hugging her so tightly she starts to laughingly gasp for air. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, realizing he’s actually crying. But he smiles through it; they’re happy tears which he hasn’t cried so often in his life. 

“It was my time to finally come and see you,” she says, hugging him back. She rubs his back gently, easing his crying, which doesn’t seem to stop. He pulls back, not caring about his wet cheeks because he has the widest of smiles on his face. 

“Are you back for good, how long are you going to stay?” Harry can’t believe he’s holding his sister. It has been years since they last saw each other. Since Harry even heard from her. She nods, Harry hugging her again even more enthusiastically. 

 

“What made you come see me now? How long have you been in the city?” Harry eases his hold on Marie, walking her inside the apartment. She takes off her shoes and looks around herself. She gives the blue flowers to Harry who puts them into a glass because he doesn’t have a vase. 

“I’ve been here for a while now and I’ve been meaning to come see you earlier,” she says, walking to the couch and admiring Harry’s guitar. She moves it against the wall, sitting down. Harry follows her eagerly, waiting to hear all the stories she has to tell him. All the places she has been in. Harry wants to hear everything. 

“I actually bumped into a friend of yours, Louis, he told me to say hi to you,” Marie smiles, watching how Harry will react. 

“You… You met Louis?” 

“Yeah, it was a bit odd though, he seemed to know a lot about me and he was a total stranger to me,” Marie laughs, seeing how Harry’s smile crumbles. 

“I told him a lot about you,” Harry’s smile vanishes completely. He can’t lose it now. So he hugs his sister again, resting his head against her shoulder. She hugs him tightly, almost like she’d keep him together. 

“Thank you,” Harry says with a voice that breaks. 

“No problem, though it seemed like he wanted to say a lot more than just hi.” 

“Really?” Marie nods against her brother’s shoulder. He holds her and hopes the missing inside of him will subside; he wants to be with his sister. Not with the feelings he has been trying to handle since Louis left. 

 

“You’ve changed so much, Harry, I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to all these years. And maybe, if you want, you could tell me more about that Louis guy. He doesn’t seem like some everyday friend, he seems like he means a lot to you,” Marie talks lowly, trying to not upset Harry even more. Does Harry want to talk about Louis though? The wound is still too fresh, Louis hasn’t been gone long enough for Harry to open up wholly. 

“He does,” Harry admits, closing his eyes. All he can see is Louis’ face when he last saw Louis. Harry wouldn’t want that to be his last memory of him; Harry would want to remember the night before Louis left as the one, which he could treasure. But now Harry is forced to say goodbye, and he can't even say it to Louis' face. He's going to have an open wound somewhere deep inside of him. Harry knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 8
> 
> Adele / I Miss You  
> Greg Laswell / Off I Go (2010 mix)  
> Keith Fullerton Whitman / Track3a (2waynice)  
> Jack Garratt / My Heart Is Your Home  
> Akira Kosemura / Hicari  
> Tom Odell / I Thought I Knew What Love Was  
> Billie Marten / Milk & Honey  
> Fleetwood Mac / Everywhere  
> Phoenix / Rome  
> Charli XCX / You - Ha Ha Ha

Donna is everywhere. She follows Louis wherever he goes, would it be day or night, city or suburbs. Louis can see her behind corners, following him when Louis tries to disappear into crowds. She appears when Louis is sitting in the park, sits down next to him and doesn’t say a word. Louis screams at her in his head, pleading her to leave him alone. 

At least she has nothing to do with Harry anymore. Louis misses him immensely, but he doesn’t have to make sure he’ll survive anymore. When Louis met Marie, he was set free. When he saw her walking away, it felt like she took his responsibility with her. He knows Harry now has someone in his life, who he can trust more than he ever could've trusted Louis. And that is Marie. Louis doesn’t have to torture himself or Harry anymore by walking behind him. It’s a relief; Louis wouldn’t have been able to do it anymore anyway. 

Louis thought his mum would go away when he wouldn’t have to be Harry’s angel anymore. He thought she would leave Louis alone. But that didn’t happen. It seems like Donna follows Louis even more than before. Louis can see her face everywhere. It’s almost haunting him, she doesn’t leave him alone and it’s his personal nightmare. 

The only place where Louis feels like he’s at least somewhat safe is his home. He stays there at night, leaving again before the sun rises. Donna doesn’t follow him inside, but every time Louis leaves, he finds Donna outside. She watches him and Louis can sense her following him. The only place where she can’t go is their house. And it’s odd, because Louis knows she’d want to see Stephen. But it looks like she can’t come inside anymore. If she comes too close, she has to back away and wait outside, like their home would be surrounded with a repellent only she reacts to. 

 

The night goes on slowly, almost as if time would’ve stopped. Louis sits on the floor of his room, his back against the wall. He can hear his dad sleeping in the living room, his light snores the only sound Louis can distinguish in the silent house. 

The house seems foreign to him after all this time. It’s just a place where he comes to spend his night, but he doesn’t have a real connection to anything he has in his room or around the house. Louis stands up and he feels like he’s saying goodbye to everything around him. He feels like he’s not going to return here anymore. 

Louis sees that the blanket his dad had on him has fallen onto the floor. He goes to put it back on him, wishing his dad won’t be alone for the rest of his life. He deserves someone in his life who can make him happy. Louis walks through the house, but it’s all worthless now. The first light of the morning comes in through the window and Louis knows he has to leave. He can see Donna through the kitchen window, waiting patiently for Louis to step outside. 

Louis closes the door quietly after himself. Donna’s eyes are already on him when he turns around to face her. 

“Why do you keep following me? I want you to stop,” Louis walks to her, so angry that the grey cloud around her can’t stop him from feeling his rage. 

“I can’t,” she simply says. 

“Yes, you can, just stop and let me be.” 

“No, I can’t, because it’s our time to go,” Donna says, as if Louis would’ve already known that. 

“Go where?” 

“Leave, for good.” 

Her words stop Louis’ anger. Her words are the grey cloud now. Leave? Louis never thought this would actually happen, that this moment would arrive. 

“It’s ending?” Donna answers with a nod. Louis looks back towards his old home, realizing that this will really be his last time here. His dad is going to have to survive alone from now on. Every memory that lays in Louis’ room are going to stay there forever, untouched. Louis’ not going to go back there; go through old concert tickets which he looked through a smoky curtain. Or all the pictures and the people in them, who he couldn’t recognise anymore. Louis is leaving his human life behind and he couldn’t be more ready. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Meet me at the field when the sun is setting. I’ll already be there,” Donna tells Louis, turning around, giving Louis one last look over her shoulder before she leaves. 

“Now you leave me alone, you won’t follow me around all day?” Louis throws his hands in the air, an incredulous smile on his face. She smiles calmly, as if her job would be done. 

Maybe it’s good she’s not going to follow him today. Because Louis has one more place where he wants to go before everything ends. 

 

\- -

 

Louis stands on the street. He has been here so many times that he thinks this place might actually be his home, not his real home where Stephen lives. The curb, who would’ve thought. The sun is already setting, but he’s not going to go before he has seen Harry one last time. 

When Harry steps out from his building, he doesn’t pay attention to the other side of the street. Marie is with him and they walk hand in hand, laughing about something. They seem happy and like they wouldn’t have spent any time apart. They walk leisurely, Louis following them easily. He can hear Harry’s laughter, which warms Louis thoroughly. 

He follows them to a café. Harry and Marie sit to a table, Harry facing the windows. Louis stays outside, he can’t go inside anymore. But he has an urge to let Harry see him. He feels almost cruel to let Harry see him, but Louis can’t just wait outside and be like nothing happened between them. He has to let Harry know that Louis’ time is up and he wants to say goodbye, because he didn’t do it properly earlier. 

Harry and Marie order something, their smiles like mirrors on each other’s faces. Louis hasn’t seen Harry so happy before, not even when Harry got the recording deal. This is new kind of happiness, something that maybe lights up only when Harry is around Marie. Louis knows that he’s standing at a spot where Harry will definitely see him. But when that doesn’t happen even after they’ve gotten what they ordered, Louis starts to lose his hope. Maybe it’s better if he’d just go. 

The cupcake in front of Harry attracts Louis’ attention. It’s a huge cupcake with pink frosting. It swirls into a high cloud on top of the pastry, finished with a luscious strawberry. Louis starts to smile at the cupcake, it reminds him of Harry. Louis is certain he has gone mad, a cupcake shouldn’t make him smile so much. He chuckles, gazing at Harry one last time. Harry is looking at Louis. His eyes look like they’re going to well up with tears soon, his chest rises and lowers erratically. Louis doesn’t know what he should do. 

He resorts to a small wave. Harry stares at Louis like he’d get a heart attack soon. Then he’s on his feet. Harry runs towards the doors of the café. Louis knows he wants to say his goodbyes to Harry. Tell him he has missed Harry. But now when Harry is rushing outside, Louis realizes how bad idea it actually is. He panics and starts to walk away, hoping Harry won’t follow him. He should be on the field already, but all Louis can think of is Harry. He hates himself for doing something so cruel. He shouldn’t have followed Harry and Marie to the café. He should’ve left when he saw them walking out from Harry’s building. 

Louis feels himself running. He’s running and he hopes Harry can’t see him anymore. It aches to think that Harry is out there, as broken as Louis is, still without a goodbye, which Harry deserves. 

 

\- - - -

 

The sun has already set when he gets onto the field. He thanks the truck driver for the ride. He has never hitchhiked in his life, but better to experience it now or never, he thinks. The man behind the steering wheel asks Louis many times if he really wants to be left on the side of the road. Louis lies that someone else is going to pick him up, that he has a ride settled. 

When Louis steps onto the field, he can see his mum already. She’s waiting for him and the closer he gets to the place where their car exploded, he gets that uncomfortable feeling he had earlier too. His body remembers this place too well, it remembers the trauma. Louis’ steps become slower the closer he gets to his mum. She smiles at him, reassuring everything’s going to be fine. She reaches her hand out to him, wanting to hold it. 

Louis is nervous. He doesn’t have to have a beating heart to be nervous. He doesn’t know what is going to happen, if his end will be quick or if he’s going to go through something before everything ends. Reluctantly Louis takes hold of Donna’s hand and looks around them. The cars look small from the place where they’re standing, even though they’re not so far from the highway. It just doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters. Louis can smell summer in the air, thinking that this is the last time he’ll ever smell it. The air is already warm and the night isn’t as dark as during the winter. 

 

“I never wanted you to go through any of this and it’s all my fault,” Donna speaks slowly. Louis’ anger has for some reason subsided. It’s not because of Donna; Louis can’t feel the greyness around her. Maybe it’s the realization of finally getting out of here and it’s making Louis calm. He was supposed to leave so long ago and now when he’s finally going to experience it, the moment gives him peace. 

Louis doesn’t say anything to her, but waits for her to continue. She’s trying to find the right words. Her hand holds Louis’ very gently, like she could break him. 

“I love you so much, Louis, so, so much. You and dad are the most important people in my life and I couldn’t have wished for a better life. I want you to know that I love you with all my heart and you’re always going to be my son, even if I wasn’t there. I’m going to be watching over you, making sure you’re going to be fine,” she says, tears in her eyes. She doesn’t look like the angel she used to be. She reminds Louis of the person she was, the living and breathing person, who cared about everyone and everything. The person who only wanted good for him. 

“I know, mum,” Louis says, but Donna shakes her head. She smiles and looks at Louis in a way that only makes Louis look away. Like she’d want to see Louis one last time, but maybe she is. This is her end too. 

“I love you, Louis,” she says before she wraps her hands around him. She hugs him tightly and it only affirms that she’s going to leave tonight too. Louis hugs her back and rests his head against her shoulder. He’s looking towards the highway, where people drive to and from the city. They don’t know anything about what is going on at this very moment on the field. They’re going to live their life. Louis and Donna might’ve had some sort of an effect on few people, but in reality they were never there. They were just good spirits. 

“I love you too, mum,” Louis says and he knows this is the last time he’s going to say those words. 

“I hope you’ll find a way back,” Donna whispers. Louis can feel the ground under their feet starting to shift, like someone would take it away. 

“Find Harry,” Donna says, which makes Louis open his eyes. He can’t find Harry anymore, it has already started. He’s on his way to some eternity where he can rest. Louis doesn’t have time to think about her words any longer. Everything starts to spin around them, which makes Louis close his eyes again.

The speed is too fast. It feels like being in a rollercoaster, which doesn’t have breaks and the people on it know they’re going to go through various loops and are headed for a definite crash. First Louis is holding his mum until he can feel his arms being pulled open, leaving him alone and scared. He opens his eyes again, to see what is going on. 

Everything’s moving around him, like he’s in the middle of a tornado, but there’s no eye in the storm. He looks up and sees light, which is only getting stronger. The light filters into pictures which start with Harry. His face when he sees Louis standing outside the café. Louis’ eyes drift back to the cupcake, he can hear himself giggling. He can see his feet moving backwards against the street and his eyes drift to Harry and Marie’s backs, who are also moving backwards. 

Louis can see everything happening backwards; the night before, the times he watched over Harry… Everything replays in this light, moving so fast that he can’t catch everything. But he knows every moment, he has lived through them. The farther the memory, the brighter the light is. Louis can feel his eyes welling up with tears as the images from his mind are only flashes against the tornado around him. 

Every moment brings up a feeling Louis didn’t have before and they overwhelm him. They make him paralyzed and forces him to watch everything happen again in rewind. Everyone’s moving like Louis would be rewinding a DVD, watching the movie till the beginning. The light gets brighter and brighter, blinding Louis until he can’t see anything else other than white. 

Suddenly it all stops. Louis can’t see anything, until a figure sitting by a bar counter comes to his mind. A lonely, hunched figure, wondering if he should drink the drink which he’s holding between his hands. Louis would know that figure even if he would be blind. Everything slows down, he can see his own hand holding the bar door open and pulling it back slowly, closing the door, leaving the lonely figure sitting in the bar. 

Everything darkens and Louis tries to blink his eyes, the darkness turning into greyness. He thinks he’s standing still, but then he feels a wind against his face. It gets stronger and the grey turns to white. He’s falling, hard, against the white. The wind pulls his limbs apart, make him fly and see the ground getting closer and closer. He can hear himself screaming, he doesn’t want to face his end this way. 

It all flashes white. 

 

Louis is sure he’s dead now. He doesn’t feel any pain, he can breathe freely. Everything is very calm. He opens his eyes with a relieved smile on his face. He can see a black sky above him. It’s filled with bright stars, saying hello to him. Louis takes a deep breath in, like it’d be his first breath. The air just doesn’t feel right. It’s cold in his lungs and it brings a sense of pain into his body. Louis can see the stars and they look like they’re getting brighter. They shine only for him. 

But the pain gets stronger the longer he breathes. Louis’ smile turns into a grimace and the stars start to remind him of a nightmare. The pain starts from his leg, spreading to his stomach and then head. The pain gets worse and worse. Breathing gets harder. Louis can feel his heart pumping in his chest and it panics when the pain doesn’t go away. Louis can hear himself screaming, like his ears would’ve been missing for a while. The more his body aches, the more he screams. He feels tears streaming from his eyes, like they could help him in some way. Like they could drain the pain. But the tears don’t help. Louis can only see the stars and be in horrific pain. It’s eating him alive, like a monster would be eating his leg with blunt teeth and swallowing huge chunks of Louis, while he still feels everything. 

A flicker catches Louis’ eye. He looks towards it, seeing a flame. Above a car. It’s not right. It can’t be right. 

Panic takes over. Louis lifts his hand and touches his leg. He can feel something sticking out, his hand covering in his own blood. He moves his hand up, touching his stomach, where a huge shard has impaled his stomach. This can’t be happening. Is this it? Is he going to face the end like this, going through it all over again? Is he going to live through a big déjà vu only to face his own death? Louis can hear himself screaming even harder. His muscles start to cramp, which makes the pain million times worse. He feels like someone is pulling his limbs apart, stretching his body to the breaking point. 

Louis knows the explosion is going to happen soon. The flame is getting bigger and bigger, licking the car and making the paint melt. This is it, Louis is going to die in pain. He screams, knowing no one will hear him. No one can be there in time. 

 

“We have someone here!” Louis hears. His screams must’ve let the person know he’s still alive. This didn’t happen last time, he didn’t hear anyone else other than himself. Louis tries to scream again, but his throat fills up with warmth and a metallic taste streams to his mouth. He coughs the blood out. It splatters onto his face. But the blood flow doesn’t stop. 

Louis can hear someone running, their feet stomping against the ground. The person sprints to his side, sweat dripping on her face. She’s breathing heavily, while securing his neck with a neck brace. She empties his mouth from the blood by digging it out with her fingers. 

Louis hears others coming closer, their voices yelling something to one another.

“The car’s going to explode soon!” The woman helping Louis yells, when two others arrive. 

“We have to get him out from there,” one of the men says, kneeling next to Louis. They all look towards the flame when something pops and releases sparks flying in the air. 

“We’re so sorry, but this is going to hurt,” the woman says to Louis, grabbing his left shoulder. The man on Louis’ right takes hold of Louis other shoulder and they pull Louis from the wreck. Louis screams, making blood gurgle in his throat. They let go of him when he’s completely out. 

“You take that side,” the woman orders. Louis sees two more men who kneel next to Louis. Louis didn’t even realize he was on a stretcher until he’s lifted up and the four start carrying him, running away from the car. 

Louis stares up at the stars, fighting against the blood. He knows he’s going to pass out soon, he can’t breathe. 

The last thing he sees is his mum. She’s standing next to the car wreck, watching Louis being taken away. She’s not going to take Louis with her, not this time. 

The car explodes, lighting up the field with different shades of red. A wave of heat washes over Louis, but he’s already far enough for it to be harmless. 

Louis sees the stars, knowing this isn’t his end. He can hear yelling. He can see flashing lights. Before he closes his eyes and lets the pain get the best of him, he feels relieved. He has a chance. 

 

\- - - -

 

The sound of a heart monitor wakes Louis up. He doesn’t open his eyes, but the annoying beeping doesn’t stop even if Louis wants it to. The sound is too loud and too close. Who would even need a heart monitor? Then again, who is being monitored? 

The beeping doesn’t stop. Louis is too tired to open his eyes to see what is going on. At least someone is alive, that’s good. But he can’t remember who is in the hospital? Has he come to see someone? 

Then everything turns brighter behind his eyelids. It has been so dark, but now it’s getting lighter. It’s almost calling Louis to open his eyes; try seeing what it’s like around him, see what the beeping is about. Louis is just so damn tired. His eyes feel like they’d be sowed shut. His limbs feel like rocks. His head feels like it’d be filled with fluffy cotton. Everything’s a bit surreal and he hasn’t even opened his eyes. 

It’s just hard to remember what has happened. Nothing makes sense. Who is in the hospital? Who was hurt? Louis is worried it’s his dad. He was fighting with Donna. Maybe something has happened to him. Louis can hear the heart monitor picking its pace, the beeping getting a bit faster. 

Louis can’t stop thinking if something has happened to his dad. Maybe he came here with mum, he can remember driving somewhere with Donna. 

Just… why can’t Louis open his eyes?

 

All these thoughts circle in his head, almost like they’d be playing tag. When one thought comes to Louis’ mind, it chases the other thoughts. When it catches the next thing in Louis’ mind, Louis starts thinking about it, pushing the first thought away for a while. It doesn’t end. 

Someone is speaking. The voice sounds familiar, very familiar. And then there’s a voice which Louis hasn’t heard before. They’re talking very close to Louis or then they’re talking very loudly. Everything sounds very loud. The beeping is like a horn, the talking is like shouting. He can also distinguish a swishing sound, like a wind that keeps blowing in a steady rhythm. The beeping and the swishing are constant sounds, the loudest ones. Mix those with people yelling something… Unbearable!

The loud noises make Louis open his eyes. Slowly they crack open, like shutters which have been closed for too long and now someone pushes them ajar. Louis just wants to tell everyone to shut up so he can do whatever he was doing before his eyes were nailed shut. 

The room is very bright. Everything’s white, almost shining in his line of vision. He can see two people standing across from him, but he can’t focus his sight. They’re just blurry figures. The other is wearing dark clothes, the other is wearing something green. 

Louis opens his mouth to tell them to keep it quiet. The people are going to disturb others too if they’re going to keep shouting like hyenas. Louis takes a breath in, realizing he has something stuck in his throat. He tries to cough it out, but it gets worse. He can’t get that odd thing moving, it’s just stuck there. He feels like choking. There’s still air going to his lungs, he can feel it. But the feeling in his throat is very uncomfortable. Like he’d have a tube stuffed down his throat…

Louis’ eyes open completely. The beeping and the swishing. The air which keeps flowing in and out from his lungs isn’t taken in by him. It’s because a machine breathes for him. Panic starts to rise in Louis’ mind, while he tries to cough the tube out. The two people across from Louis notice his stress and rush to his side. The one in green keeps smiling at Louis, saying something to him. Louis just can’t comprehend what it is. What is that person trying to say? He holds his hand on Louis’ shoulder and the other rests on Louis’ hand, which Louis is trying to bring up to take the tube out. Why aren’t these people helping him? Why aren’t they taking the tube out? 

Louis can only hear people yelling in his ears. The one in green keeps smiling at him and nodding his head in rhythmic beats, slowly raising his chin and bringing it down. His mouth closes and opens with every movement. Louis stares at his mouth, feeling a rush of air hitting his face every time the man brings his chin down and opens his mouth. He’s breathing though his mouth. Louis can still only hear the heart monitor beeping like crazy and the ventilator pushing air in and taking it out from Louis’ lungs. 

The man still gets Louis’ attention. The tube doesn’t feel good in his throat, but the man in the green outfit gets him to calm down. The nurse says something to the other person who is on Louis’ other side. But Louis keeps staring at the man in green who is making sure Louis understands that he needs to calm down. Seeing someone breathing in and out steadily makes Louis slow his breathing too. Someone is here by his side, helping him to get through this. 

Louis still can’t understand anything the man is saying to him, though. He says something, a relaxed expression on his face. He nods his head slowly, disappearing from Louis’ line of vision. Then he’s back again, this time with snug gloves on his hands. He lays the head of Louis’ bed down and asks Louis to do something for him. But Louis can’t understand. He’s staring at the man in green, helplessly trying to understand what is happening to him. Everything’s too white and he doesn’t understand why he has a tube down his throat. 

Someone takes Louis’ hand in theirs. It’s the other person in the room. But Louis can’t focus on them right now, he has to know what the man in the green outfit is saying. Louis can hear the man’s voice ringing in his ears. It still sounds like shouting, but maybe a bit quieter than before. He nods again, slowly, trying to get Louis’ approval to do something. When Louis still can’t understand what it is, the man takes the tube between his fingers, holding it and nodding again. Is he going to take it out? He pats Louis’ chest lightly, but Louis doesn’t know what that means? Does he want Louis to do something? 

Louis doesn’t want to wait anymore. He nods slowly too, which the man takes as an approval. He takes a firmer hold of the tube, starting to pull it out slowly. Louis starts to cough, feeling the tube coming up. It almost feels like his throat would be filled with water. He feels like being underwater, where he can’t do anything. No one can hear each other and if you get water into your lungs, you know you’re finished. The more the tube is out, the more Louis feels like he’s swimming towards the surface. 

 

He can feel the end of the tube hitting his mouth. He coughs one more time, before he feels air running down his throat and into his lungs. His throat feels very dry; the air is like ice against it. He takes a few deep breaths, while the man lifts the head of Louis’ bed up again. Louis blinks his eyes, closing his mouth and taking a few test breaths through his nose. He feels the air running up and down in his chest. 

It wakes him up more, even though he still can’t hear properly. The man is talking again, this time Louis can already distinguish some words. He can hear the man talking like he’s be at the end of a long tunnel and slowly he’s walking closer to Louis. The man nods his head again, it’s almost comical how often he does that. He keeps nodding his head, but then he leaves. Louis looks at the door where he walked out of, waiting to see him return. But that doesn’t happen. 

 

Louis can feel the other person still holding his hand. He looks their way, finding his dad’s teary eyes watching Louis. He looks hopeful, new tears streaming from his eyes when he looks at Louis. He bows his head down, touching his forehead against Louis’ hand and then he brings his watery eyes back up to Louis. He’s saying something and Louis can almost hear the words he’s saying, but not quite. 

It’s odd seeing his dad like this. Louis can remember seeing his dad sleeping on the couch or by their kitchen table. He can remember those things which seem unreal, but still like he lived through them. His dad just doesn’t look the same now. 

Louis has never seen his dad cry like this. A few times before, yes, but it was never like it’s now. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy. His cheeks look like they haven’t been dry for a good while. 

Stephen says something again. Louis watches his mouth and starts to recognize the sound of his dad. He’s talking very quietly, but Louis can hear him now. As if he would’ve gotten his ability to hear back. He doesn’t understand why he didn’t hear his dad speaking properly. He heard it too loudly and too quietly at the same time. Now, when he can put together the words and the movements of Stephen’s mouth, he can suddenly hear his voice normally again. 

 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Stephen keeps repeating. He’s holding Louis’ hand tightly, tears dropping from his chin down onto Louis’ skin. 

“I thought you’re never going to wake up,” Stephen bows his head to rest it against Louis’ hand again.

“And now you’re here,” he lifts his eyes to meet Louis’, and there’s a mixture of happiness and sadness fighting for space. 

“Can you hear what I’m saying to you, can you hear me?” Stephen asks and brushes his fingertips against Louis forehead. As if he would be brushing Louis' hair aside, but then he'd remember something. Louis nods because he’s still not sure how his voice will sound like. Or if he’s going to be able to produce any words. 

“Do you remember me?” Stephen asks and a flash of uncertainty takes control of his eyes. Louis nods again, he hasn’t forgotten who his dad is or what he looks like. Stephen smiles, holding onto Louis’ hand with both of his. 

Louis rests his head against the pillows and looks up. The white room feels too bright. He’d need sunglasses to be staying in here. His eyes drift towards the window which is on the right side of the room. The weather looks grey, not at all summery like Louis thought it’d be. Stephen doesn’t let go of Louis’ hand, but he calms himself down. He doesn’t say anything which is almost too nice. Louis doesn’t want to hear anything other than the sounds which the monitors next to him make. 

The heart monitor beeps rhythmically. Louis watches the line move and jump up every time his heart takes a beat. His eyes move from the screen to all the tubes and wires which seem to be attached to him. One of the tubes goes to his hand and a needle is settled in one of the veins. 

The different equipment, which have been attached to him, don’t keep his attention for long when he sees a bouquet of red roses on the bedside table. They’re huge and look like they haven’t been sitting in their vase for too long. Has his dad brought them for Louis? Or maybe it was someone else? Harry? The green eyes and the curls jump into Louis’ mind. The heart monitor starts to beat a little faster, which seems almost silly. Harry should be here seeing how Louis reacts. Maybe Louis can show him soon, Harry has to be close by. 

Another thought comes to Louis’ mind. Now that he has woken up from his weird dream, he can tell Harry that he doesn’t have to stay away anymore. Now they can do what normal people do. Now Louis doesn’t have to avoid seeing or touching Harry anymore. Or avoid telling Harry how he really feels about him. 

 

The door opens and in walks the same nurse who took out the tube from his throat. He’s with a man wearing a white coat and dark green clothes underneath. 

“Hello Stephen,” he greets and Stephen lets go of Louis’ hand to stand up and shake the man’s hand. 

“And you must be Louis, welcome back,” the man directs his eyes to Louis and smiles warmly. 

“I’m doctor Bengtman and I’ve been treating you since you were brought here. I’m here to do a little check-up and fill you in on everything. Is that okay with you?” He talks lowly, which sounds pleasant in Louis’ ears. He nods and waits for the doctor to begin. He digs out an object which looks like a pen, but it’s really like a small flash light. He checks Louis’ pupils and makes him move his eyes with the light. He lifts the duvet from Louis’ legs and checks up a wound which Louis didn’t even know he had. The wound has already healed pretty well, but it still looks recent. The doctor gently feels Louis’ stomach and there’s another wound which has healed. Louis looks at the red scars and tries to remember the moment he had them. At this point he can only remember stars. 

 

“Okay, everything looks fine at least on the outside. Can you please tell me your name?” Doctor Bengtman asks. He sits on the edge of the hospital bed and waits patiently for Louis to talk. Louis clears his throat, while thinking about how he’s going to move his mouth or make the words come out. His mouth seems to be completely slack and it makes him feel like he’s never going to use it again. He clears his throat again, afraid to speak. 

“I’m…” the sound is cracked and airy. His dry throat feels like sandpaper. 

“Take your time,” the doctor smiles and tilts his head sympathetically. 

“I’m Louis,” he says, clearing his throat. His voice sound odd in his ears. A bit like he hasn’t said a word in a long time, like his jaw is too relaxed and his tongue isn’t going to work that well. 

“Good. Okay, can you tell me what happened?” The doctor continues, giving Louis time to answer. 

“Mum…” Louis coughs lightly, holding his hand to his chest. 

“She was driving.” 

 

Louis doesn’t like to talk. It all seems too weird. Everything’s too confusing. Stephen breaks down into small, quiet sobs. Louis looks his way to see his dad’s bowed head. Why is he crying? This can’t be reality, this is some parallel universe where everything’s too bright and people are acting weirdly. Louis would just want to wake up and go back to his life. 

The doctor nods his head, understanding Louis is not going to say anything else. 

“You can’t remember anything else?” Louis shakes his head slowly. Even that feels unpleasant in his head. His insides seem to be mushy, especially his brain. 

“Well, Louis, you’re correct. You were in a car and you had an accident. You might face some difficulty remembering certain things, because you suffered a serious head injury. We suspect you were thrown through the windshield, which caused you to have a brain bleed and we operated that. The surgery was successful, even though we did face some complications. At this point you might have problems with your memory or speech, even with your sight. We’re going to do a new brain scan now that you’ve woken up so we know a little more of your situation. Do you understand?” Louis looks at the doctor horrified. 

He was in a car accident and he was in a surgery… Something flashes in his mind, a memory. The stars… He saw them while he was laying on the ground. He can remember being in excruciating pain, but now most of it is gone. The scars… They must explain the pain. Louis nods his head, while his heart starts to beat faster again. He’s not sure if he wants to hear more, but at the same time he wants to know what happened to him. The doctor nods his head with Louis, taking a breath in. 

“When you were brought in, you also had severe injuries on your left leg and abdomen. We took surgical measures on the injuries a couple of times because we couldn’t fix everything at one go. It would’ve been too drastic on your body after such trauma. Your leg was broken from a couple of places which was fixed by placing screws into the bone. Our orthopaedic surgeon is very talented and feels very optimistic of you having full mobility in your leg after physiotherapy.” 

“The injuries in your abdomen were the biggest concern with your head injury. A piece of glass had impaled your stomach and had caused some injuries in your intestines and other organs. You also experienced a collapsed lung after your second surgery on your abdomen, which is why we had to insert a chest tube…” 

Louis feels sick. Like he could throw up. He tunes the doctor out while he watches his mouth move. All this information the doctor is giving him disgusts him. The broken bones and the talk about his stomach… He doesn’t want to hear about them anymore. And the head injury? What does it mean? He can’t remember things right anymore? He has to live with this confusion for the rest of his life? 

“Because of the extensive trauma your body had to go through, we had to put you into a medically induced coma. The complications, which we dealt with, while you were having your brain surgery, made us decide that it’d be beneficial for you to stay in a coma to give your brain and body a chance to recover more peacefully.” 

A coma. Louis stares at the doctor, overwhelmed by all the information. 

“How long…?” Louis asks with his shaky voice, which sounds like he doesn’t even have a voice. 

“How long you were in a coma?” The doctor asks and Louis nods. 

“For a bit over five months. The reason for that is because we had to do big surgeries on you. It would've been too stressful for your body if we had put you under anaesthesia every single time. The medically induced coma gave us a chance to work more efficiently and it gave us time to figure out the best ways to work on your injuries without putting your other organs in danger.” 

“Waking up from a coma is going to make you feel confused and you might feel emotions from panic to anxiety as the information and testing might be too overwhelming at this point. We’re going to give you the best treatment we can and we’re here to help you and answer any questions you have concerning your recovery and treatment from now on. You also have a very supportive father by your side who is ready to give any help you need and fill you in on everything that has happened.” 

Like everything the doctor said would be okay by telling Louis he has his dad and doctors by his side. Louis rests his head against his pillow, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. Nothing makes sense and everything makes sense. 

“I need time,” Louis says with his airy voice. 

“If anything comes up, just ring us and someone’ll come here,” the doctor says politely, before he stands up. 

“We’re going to rest for a bit,” Stephen says, his hand holding Louis’ gently. Louis just wants everyone out. He doesn’t want to hear anything, he doesn’t want to see anyone and he doesn’t want to talk to anyone. It’s all just too much. 

The doctor and the nurse leave, but Stephen stays. He doesn’t say anything, which Louis is very grateful for. 

 

“I’m so happy you’re finally awake,” Stephen says silently. Louis turns his eyes slowly towards his dad. He looks like he has aged a lot since Louis last saw him. 

“And that you’re alive, that’s the most important thing,” Stephen continues and sighs. Louis has a feeling. The look on his dad’s face tells him that everything’s still not fine. He might say that he’s happy to see Louis and that he’s awake now. But there’s something more, which Stephen isn’t telling Louis. 

“Me and your boyfriend haven’t left your side since we got here,” he says, reaching his hand out to wipe something away from Louis’ cheek. 

“Eyelash,” Stephen smiles and gently rubs his fingers together to let it fly away. 

Boyfriend? Louis’ mind only remembers the guy with the green eyes and the wild curls and the limbs that seem too long at times, but which are perfect on him. The songs he heard Harry play and the things they used to talk about. Louis is now even more certain that the roses are from him. He can feel his cheeks picking colour, which he can’t hide now. Stephen sees it and smiles a bit more relaxed. He just can’t stop thinking about his mum. Stephen doesn’t say a word about her and she hasn’t been here, by Louis’ side, from what Louis can gather from his dad’s talk. He already knows what has happened though. 

“Mum didn’t make it, did she?” Louis asks, his voice sounding a bit more like his own. Stephen stares at Louis and he can see that Stephen’s eyes well up with tears. They spill onto his cheeks and create rivers down his neck, which have already made their path on his skin. Stephen shakes his head, holding Louis’ hand a little tighter. Louis knows that he should be sad, but at the same time he feels like he had his closure. He already said goodbye to her. At the same time it doesn’t feel like she has left them. Probably she hasn’t. 

“I’m just happy that I didn’t lose both of you,” Stephen says with his teary voice. He composes himself and takes a few deep breaths. 

 

The door opens, flying in a young man. He stares at Louis for a moment, before he rushes to Louis’ side and starts to kiss his face. Louis is completely taken aback by the actions of this stranger, even though he does look familiar. His blond hair caresses Louis’ cheeks, when the boy keeps kissing every inch of his face gently. Louis knows he’s crying, because tears land on Louis’ face. The young man keeps laughing lightly, almost giggling. Louis doesn’t know what he should do, he doesn’t know the guy. Should he tell the man that? 

“I think that’s enough,” Louis hears Stephen say. He’s smiling, when Louis sees his dad’s face. The young man sits on Louis’ bed, taking his hand into his and giving every fingertip at least ten small kisses. 

“I never thought this day would come, it has been so long since I last saw your eyes,” the young man says. He’s smiling so brightly with his cheeks glistening with tears. Louis would want to answer to his happiness, tell him that he’s happy to see him too. But Louis can’t. He can’t remember the guy. 

“Do you remember him?” Stephen asks gently, the man looking at Louis expectantly. Louis wouldn’t want to do it, but he shakes his head shyly. 

“I’m Jeremy,” he says, smiling adoringly. Louis stares at him, the pieces in his mind trying to come together, but attaching to wrong pieces. 

“Can you remember who Jeremy is?” Stephen asks. Louis doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t. He has no idea who Jeremy is, even though there’s something familiar about him. 

“He’s your boyfriend,” Stephen fills in for Louis, squeezing Louis’ hand gently. Louis looks his way quickly, like he’d be looking for some sort of support. Then he looks at Jeremy, who isn’t hurt by Louis’ memory loss. 

“I’ve been here every day, hoping that you’d wake up. And here you are, wide awake,” Jeremy says. 

“I brought you flowers every week,” he continues. Louis’ eyes drift to the roses on the bedside table. The thought of Harry bringing them to Louis slips from his mind. It wasn’t Harry who cared, it was this guy who Louis can’t remember. 

Louis looks at Jeremy again, seeing his brown, warm eyes and kind smile. He knows that he has spent time with Jeremy at some point. But there are no emotions towards him; nothing makes Louis think that Jeremy is somehow important to him. 

He still manages to smile at Jeremy. Weakly, but still smiles. Jeremy smiles back, sighing contently. He must think Louis remembers him. He brings Louis’ hand to his lips again, giving his palm a kiss. He keeps on watching Louis and Louis keeps on smiling like it all would be familiar to him. 

But the only thing he can think about is Harry. If he knows that Louis is in the hospital. If he’s alright. What he’s doing right now, right at this moment. Louis stares at Jeremy and sees Harry’s image in his mind. Louis stares at the brown eyes and imagines green eyes. Louis thinks back to the moment Jeremy rushed into the room and hopes it would’ve been Harry. Showering Louis with kisses and make Louis’ heart race, which he’d want Harry to see. He’d want Harry to hold his hand and smile at him. But now he can’t even say Harry’s name. 

 

\- - - -

 

It takes a while for Louis to recognise who he is and what world he’s living in. 

The first time he saw himself in the mirror, he looked like the same he has always looked. Except there were scars, which will stay there forever. His hair had been shaved off but it was already growing back. He stared at his own face and his eyes and tried to decide if this was the reality. Jeremy looked into the mirror with Louis, smiling and telling Louis how good he looked. Louis just didn’t want to hear his voice. Or see him. He didn’t want Jeremy to be there at all. 

Louis is sure his dad has seen how Louis wants Jeremy to leave at times. Jeremy is there all the time and he doesn’t leave Louis’ side. He talks and talks, tells Louis about how they met and what they used to do before the accident. Stephen sits by the bed, listening to the stories and laughs when Jeremy laughs when he thinks the story is funny. But then Stephen sees Louis and worry rises to his face, wiping away the smile. 

It’s not that Louis wouldn’t remember who Jeremy is. Or what they used to do. After laying in the hospital bed for a couple of weeks after waking up from his coma, Louis started to get his memory back. Just little glimpses or flashes of events before the accident rushes back to his mind. They don’t especially excite him. He remembers things and realises how dull his life was. He liked his life back then, there’s no questions about it. He likes the memories and the things he did. 

But all the people, who he used to spend his time with, did nothing for him. Especially Jeremy. He remembers meeting Jeremy at a concert and how he got smitten with Jeremy’s looks. Later he got to know Jeremy more and he liked him. But now, when Louis knows that there could be something more, it’s not enough. Louis does care about Jeremy, but he knows that it’s never going to be something he’d like to settle with. 

He tries to talk with Jeremy, listen to what he’s saying, but Louis usually finds himself zoning out. He never did that before, but now it’s just easier to go to that place where Jeremy wouldn’t sit by his bed all the time. Even his dad isn’t there that often anymore. And Louis would want to spend time with his dad, talk with him, take his time and get used to all the new things around him and focus on recovery. 

 

The time before the accident isn’t the only thing Louis remembers. The strongest memory is from the time after the accident. He remembers everything. His mum and how they went home at night. Or the times Donna pissed him off, but in the end Louis always found his way back to her. 

The times with Harry… While Louis listens to Jeremy and his rambling about how he and Louis used to do pranks on others, Louis can hear Harry’s voice in his mind. He can remember every conversation he had with Harry and he replays them over and over again in his mind. He tries to stay present, but often realises Jeremy has quieted down and Louis is still staring at the one spot on the wall, like Harry could be standing right in front of it. 

 

It doesn’t help that Louis is sick and tired of his physiotherapy. He’s so tired already and the sessions with the therapist make him exhausted. He has made a lot of progress, which is good. But he’s tired of staying in the hospital and listening to Jeremy and going through the physiotherapy and trying to catch up with everything that has happened while he was in a coma. He’d want some peace and quiet. Time for himself to put things together and not rush through all the things that make him anxious. He doesn’t want to have someone telling him what to do every minute or telling him to remember certain things because he can remember those moments. 

Though it has surprised the doctor that Louis can remember everything so well. He has made many test on Louis, he has tried to find out if there’s any clues of further complications or if there’s something wrong, which could make him remember everything so well from the time before the accident. 

Every scan and test result comes in clear. His head is fine. 

 

“I think we can continue your recovery from home,” Bengtman says one day, when Stephen is sitting next to Louis, reading news to him. Jeremy is at a lecture, which makes Louis very happy. 

“Are you sure?” Stephen asks, not believing his words. Louis can’t believe it either. He can leave this room and go back to some normalcy. 

“Yes, you’ve been cleared by our orthopaedic surgeon and now me. There’s nothing more we can do for you here. Your recovery has been amazing and we can monitor you well enough from your home. Of course we’re going to give Stephen all the instructions if anything happens, but that is very unlikely at this point. You still have to use crutches, take your medication regularly and come in for a check-up, but other than that you are free to go. I’m still going to write you a sick leave for a few weeks from now, but I’m discharging you today.” 

The doctor smiles, pleased with himself. Stephen smiles too, but in a more tentative way. 

“Isn’t that great news?” He asks Louis, when he sees Louis’ face. 

“Yeah, of course… I just don’t know how to react,” Louis stares at the doctor and then his dad, in a loss for words. What is he supposed to do now? Go back to his life? What is his life now? What did he usually do when he was at home? What is normal for him anymore? The doctor and Stephen talk for a while, while Louis tries to figure out the best way to react to the news. He doesn’t even know who he is anymore; how is he supposed to find out what he’s going to do when he gets home. 

One thing’s for sure though; He really hopes Jeremy isn’t going to be there. 

 

\- - 

 

Louis opens the door to his room. Stephen is right behind him, carrying a bag filled with Louis’ few pieces of clothes he had at the hospital with him. Stephen walks past Louis, when he leans against the door frame to look at the space in front of him. Stephen sets the bag down on Louis’ bed, unpacking it right away. He hangs a hoodie on a hanger and into the wardrobe. He folds a couple of pairs of joggers and shirts, putting them into a drawer. 

The room looks the same as before. Now he can see everything clearly, he’s not looking at all the pictures on the walls or all the memories through a smoky curtain. There’s a lot of pictures of him and Jeremy. They look like a couple, which Louis hasn’t been feeling lately. 

He steps into his room, while Stephen tries to do something with his hands. He’s clearly nervous of having Louis finally home again. He’s standing awkwardly in the corner, watching Louis’ reactions and trying to figure them out. 

Louis gets closer to his desk. The surface is filled with his books from university and boxes filled with old concert and movie tickets and bits and pieces from his old life which doesn’t seem to have any meaning to him anymore. A piece of paper catches his eye. His and Jeremy’s signatures are written neatly on the bottom of the paper. On the top it says “We promise to move together as soon as we find a place where we can do whatever we want”. Louis takes the paper to his hand, watching the scribbling while backing away from his desk to sit on his bed. 

“Well, what does it look like to be back?” Stephen asks. He has stuffed his hands into his pockets. He’s very nervous, Louis can tell. His eyes never leave Louis and he’s standing awkwardly, switching his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Odd,” Louis chuckles, making himself comfortable. His leg hurts and he can’t make the pain go away, no matter how he’ll sit.

“If you need anything, just tell me,” Stephen smiles, relaxing maybe just a bit. 

“Keep Jeremy out,” Louis looks at his dad maybe with too hopeful eyes. 

“If you really want that, then I’ll do it,” Stephen looks at him curiously. He sighs, like he would want to say something more, but he doesn’t. He is almost out of the door, when Louis starts to feel bad. 

“You don’t have to keep Jeremy out, dad,” he says, almost defeated. Stephen turns towards Louis, nodding and closing the door a little after himself. 

 

Louis looks at his room, his eyes drifting from wall to wall. He’s still holding the paper in his hands and reads it again. He remembers the moment him and Jeremy wrote it. He can’t believe he signed something like it. Now it seems so binding, like a legal document. Like he’d almost be married with Jeremy. Coming up with a paper like this was more like a joke back when they wrote it. They were only thinking about fucking each other senseless. Now, Louis just wants to be at home with his dad and not think about Jeremy at all. 

He rips the piece of paper into shreds. He lets them float onto the floor, seeing the letters which still a few seconds ago used to be words and those words at some point made some sense. Louis looks up, seeing all those things he had hung up his walls and how messy it all looks now. All those things make the room feel like it’s going to collapse on him. There’s too much going on and Louis would want to rip everything off the walls and start again. There’s a beast inside of him which would want to rip though Louis’ skin and destroy everything around him. Louis’ skin crawls with the uneasy feeling. He stands up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him and hoping no one will make him go in there ever again. 

 

\- - - -

 

Seconds. They turn into minutes. Minutes turn into hours. Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. 

9 months. 

Louis is living a double life. The one he once lived and the one he lived with Harry. He’s trying to be like he was before the accident and all the realisations. But life isn’t that easy. 

Living at home is different. Of course it is; he practically lived at Harry’s. Louis remembers the times he visited his dad and walked around the house, but it’s not the same. Now he can see everything clearly, he’s really there and he has to also be there. He can’t just disappear like he was able to do before. He has to be present and he has to live a life, which doesn’t seem like his own anymore. 

He knows that he was given a new chance at everything, but it all seems so meaningless. He's back living his life, which he already lived for 21 years before the accident. Now, when he’s thrown back into his old life, he feels like he’s wasting his time. He’s wasting his time by doing nothing because he still hasn’t recovered fully. He’s wasting his time by doing the things he used to do, but now they don’t feel like the things he’d want to do. He’s wasting his time by seeing someone who he doesn’t know anymore. 

 

Being home, in his room, doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like home. He knew it as soon as he first set his foot inside. He has all these things that he used to use all the time. He has all these memories, which don’t seem like his memories. Someone else lived them and he’s looking at them from the outside, like an intruder. He’s looking at these pictures, where he’s smiling with his friends and having the time of his life. But Louis doesn’t recognise himself from those pictures. That’s someone else. Those people, those moments, don’t wake any emotion inside of him even though he remembers everything. 

He’s looking at the pictures and something snaps inside of him. He stands in front of all those memories, starting to strip his wall from all those people, all those moments. He’s watching how it all stacks up to for a pile, reminding Louis of everything he wants to forget. The people from the pictures stare back at him with smiley eyes and disappear underneath each other. Louis doesn’t care if he ruins the pictures by not taking the tapes from the backsides. It almost frightens him how much he doesn’t care. When he’s done taking the pictures down, he doesn’t stop. He wants to get rid of everything. 

“Dad?” He found Stephen sitting in the kitchen, drinking his morning coffee the night after Louis came home.

“Hmm?” He lifted his gaze from the morning paper. 

“I need your help,” Louis said, trying to contain his breath, which was trying to pick its pace. He felt like he was actually doing something meaningful. 

“With what?” 

“I want to get rid of everything,” Louis felt himself to be a little manic. He needed to calm himself down or his dad would’ve taken him back to the hospital. 

“What do you mean?” Stephen was clearly perplexed. His brows pulled together and his eyes grew curious. 

“Everything. I don’t want to see any of those things that I have in my room. I just need to get rid of them,” Louis is dead serious. He stayed up all night, not able to sleep, because his things had this weird energy, which made him uneasy. He didn’t stay in his room for too long before he moved into the living room to get some sleep on the couch. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I need to get them out from there,” Louis didn’t know how he could’ve been any clearer. He just wanted all of those things out, he wanted to start again. Louis turned his back to his dad, limped away, back into his room. He looked at all the things around him and felt suffocated. 

 

Louis has to hand it to his dad; he hasn’t been anything, but supportive. He packed everything away what Louis wanted. He didn’t question Louis’ decision, just did what he was told. When he had put everything away into the attic, he saw the relief on Louis’ face. Like he could breathe again. The bare walls, the empty desk and a clean closet was everything he needed. 

“What do you think?” Stephen asked when he sat next to Louis. They looked at the white walls and how the light from the window looked different when there wasn’t anything which could suck the light from radiating around them. 

“I like it,” Louis turned to look at his dad with a smile on his lips, like he would’ve gotten the best gift in the whole wide world. Stephen smirked, tucking Louis under his arm and squeezing him to his side. 

 

Reorganising his room was the only thing he was able to do to ease his odd feeling. Even though it helped; he felt like he could start from the beginning, get new memories and at some level forget his past, it didn’t change the way he felt for everything else. His home wasn’t the same anymore. He found himself missing somewhere else. And he knew it was Harry’s place; it had become his home where he felt at ease. But Harry hasn’t been making any efforts to contact Louis. 

Of course, Louis said they can’t meet anymore or be friends or anything. And how could have Harry found Louis, when he doesn’t have Louis’ number or doesn’t know where he lives. Maybe he first tried to find Louis, but when he didn’t succeed, he gave up. Louis has been thinking about meeting Harry, but what could he say? He’s not even sure what his own life is. How could he know who he wants in it? Maybe having Harry in his life would be even more difficult. It could make him confused and that’s the last thing Louis wants. 

Maybe the biggest thing is that Louis knows he lived the whole time he was in a coma. He knows that he experienced everything during that time, even though it seems impossible. But it couldn’t have been just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream. He just doesn’t know how he was in two places at once. Still, Louis has very clear memories from his time with Harry and the time before the accident. The only thing he can’t remember is the accident. He remembers pain, but he can’t remember seeing anything or hearing anything. Just the time before and after has stayed with him. 

Louis just misses the times he was with Harry. He felt free and like he had a purpose. He liked staying up all night talking with Harry about everything and nothing. He liked listening to Harry writing songs and playing the same few chords over and over again when he was trying to come up with the next line. Louis didn’t have to talk all the time to be heard. He was able to be as expressive as he wanted to. No one cut his speech, he didn’t have to make himself heard. Harry always listened and didn’t make Louis to be someone who he had to be with his former friends. Now, when those so called friends don’t make any contact with Louis after the accident, it’s even more telling that he’s not living his own life. He misses the time when everything was simpler. 

Now that Jeremy is there all the time, practically living at Louis’ house, cleaning and helping and being a boyfriend to Louis, everything’s even harder. He comes to Louis’ house every day, keeps him company which Louis doesn’t need every moment of the day. Maybe Jeremy even keeps Louis from moving forward and figuring out who he really is. Jeremy is really trying, Louis can see that from the way he acts around Louis. He’s offering to make him and Stephen food, he offers to take Louis for walks, he offers to clean for them, he offers to introduce new people to Louis, he offers Louis dates and things which boyfriends do. But Louis can’t find anything from inside, which would make him interested or feel good around Jeremy. He’s part of Louis’ past and even though Louis at times likes to have Jeremy around, most of the time he feels like Jeremy is holding him back. 

When months pass by and Jeremy is still there, making an effort and caring about Louis, it becomes the time for Louis to make a decision. He can’t keep thinking about that part of his life, which he’s not going to get back. He knows that very well. Harry has clearly forgotten about Louis and maybe Louis has to move on too. Maybe Jeremy is the right person to move forward with. Maybe it’ll all make sense in the end. 

 

\- -

 

“I was thinking about something,” Louis says behind his study book. Modern architecture. He wouldn’t want to read it, but he’s starting his studies fully again and it doesn’t hurt to see what the book is about. 

“What?” Jeremy is massaging Louis’ leg gently, mainly just stroking Louis’ calf over his sweats. He looks up to meet Louis’ eyes. His own look like he’s going to fall asleep any minute. 

“What do you think if we’d go out?” Louis asks. When the words come out of his mouth, they feel wrong. But he has to do this, he has to move on and Jeremy is here. He cares, he has been caring for the past months even when Louis wouldn’t have wanted that. 

Jeremy stares at Louis, his eyes blank, his hands frozen against Louis’ leg. 

“Who are you? What have you done to Louis?” He asks, very serious. Louis chuckles and places the book on his chest. 

“It could be fun. We haven’t gone anywhere since the accident and I think this could be the right time for it,” Louis explains, hoping Jeremy will take him seriously. 

“I’ve been asking you out for the past three months and you’ve said you’re busy even though you spend your days at home.” 

“I see your point. But I’ve been an asshole and I want to go out with you,” Louis smiles. He sees Jeremy’s doubt turn into a smile and joy. He smiles widely, continuing to massage Louis’ leg. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Somewhere nice, maybe have a dinner or something. I mean, like a restaurant, or something,” Louis blabbers, his eyes drifting from Jeremy to the book on his chest and back to Jeremy, who is trying to fight a giggle. 

“What?” Louis, asks when Jeremy covers his mouth with his hand. 

“It’s just cute when you get nervous.” 

“I’m not nervous!” Louis pretends to be offended. But it makes Jeremy laugh, his voice echoing in Louis’ room. 

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy fits the words between his giggles. 

“I’m not! I’m just making a suggestion and you’re making a joke out of it!” Louis can’t fight his own laughter, which bursts between the sentences. 

“Okay, okay, dinner at a nice place. What happens after?” Jeremy calms himself and raises his brow at Louis, who narrows his eyes. 

“You mean dessert?” 

“Or… dessert?” Jeremy hints, a very suggestive smile on his face. Louis chuckles, but doesn’t say anything. He sighs and directs his eyes away from Jeremy. 

“We don’t have to do anything, I’m just joking,” Jeremy says after he listens to the silence which Louis isn’t going to break. 

“No, I know…” Louis looks back at Jeremy, his mind deep in thought. 

“I know that you want something more and we both know that I haven’t been able to… Do anything…” Louis’ not even embarrassed anymore. Jeremy has been very eager to try getting something going with Louis. But when Louis can’t get excited about anything, it kills the mood and nothing happens. They only sleep in the same bed and maybe share few kisses. But Louis knows Jeremy would want something more, even when he says he doesn’t want it. Louis just knows. 

“Let’s not take any pressure of it, okay? If something happens, then it happens. Let’s not think about it, okay?” Jeremy suggests, squeezing Louis’ calf a few times. Louis nods at that, a smile coming back to his lips. 

 

“When do you want to go out?” Jeremy asks, clearly taking the conversation to more comfortable grounds. Louis chuckles, picking his book back up. 

“Maybe I could surprise you?” Louis looks at Jeremy over the top of his book. Jeremy laughs, biting his lip cutely. 

“Maybe I’d like that,” he winks at Louis, making Louis shake his head and laugh quietly before he goes back to reading the text. 

 

\- -

 

“Shhh, let’s try not to wake up my dad,” Louis stage whispers. 

“Why did we even agree to come here? Why didn’t we go to my place?” Louis stops when he hears Jeremy’s question. He turns towards Jeremy, his hand linked with Jeremy’s.

“I actually have no idea,” he says, chuckling. Jeremy covers his mouth, bursts of laughter still escaping his mouth. 

“Louis?” They hear Stephen’s voice. 

“Goodnight, dad!” Louis yells, pulling Jeremy into his room and closing the door quickly. They hear Stephen say goodnight back, which muffles with Jeremy and Louis’ quiet giggles. 

“You think he knows I’m here?” Jeremy asks, pinning Louis against the door. They stand in the dark, not bothering to put the lights on. Louis shakes his head, linking his hands behind Jeremy’s neck. He pulls Jeremy slowly closer, before their lips touch. 

It’s different. Louis can’t stop comparing Jeremy to Harry. He has wanted to stop it the whole evening, but he can’t get Harry from his mind. The times he went out to eat with Harry, even though it might’ve only been to a bar, seemed like they were dating. Now, when he knows that he’s supposed to be in a relationship with Jeremy, the night felt different. Louis was meant to act a certain way and he was meant to say certain things. Like calling Jeremy his boyfriend which practically lit Jeremy’s whole being. 

But kissing. Louis doesn’t even know if he enjoys it. He certainly knows that he at some point liked it. He liked it a lot. But now, when he got a taste of something else. He misses that something else so bad that it’s not even funny anymore. Kissing Jeremy is still some kind of a remedy, but at the same time, is it right to kiss him if it’s something Louis wouldn’t want to be doing? Or if Louis isn’t even thinking about Jeremy and his lips, but someone else and their lips? 

Louis shuts his mind up. He can’t be thinking about these things anymore. Everything will be ruined if he wants the night to end with something more than just kissing.

 

\- - - -

 

“There’s a lot of people behind me,” Louis says and is sure Jeremy can’t even hear what he’s saying. He’s blindfolded, stuck between some bodies and a fence. 

“Yeah! You’ll like it when you know where we are!” Jeremy says loudly, enthusiasm clear in his voice. 

“I’ll like being in this sweaty place?” 

“Yes! You always did,” Jeremy says into Louis’ ear. 

“Why can’t I just take this scarf off my eyes?!” Louis’ raises his voice at the same time the crowd behind him starts to cheer uncontrollably. He doesn’t have to ask Jeremy twice. He can feel Jeremy’s hands on the back of his head, untying the scarf. Louis can feel it loosening. Not knowing what’s in front of him or behind him scares him a little. Being completely blind in a place like this doesn’t feel that good. 

Especially on the night of his “anniversary”. He has been feeling such bad phantom pain all day that he would’ve wanted to crawl into his bed and stayed there all day. And now Jeremy dragged him somewhere, where Louis can only feel anxiety and uneasiness. This is not the best way to spend the one year anniversary of the accident. He should’ve told Jeremy to cancel the plans he had made. They should just leave. Maybe Jeremy could rub Louis’ feet, or give him something else to think about. Isn’t that kind of his job as a boyfriend? 

“Let’s make this night a bit more fun,” Jeremy says into Louis’ ear, before he reveals the sight in front of them to Louis. The bright lights are blinding. An intro video is playing on the backdrop of a stage. Louis can feel Jeremy’s hand on his lower back, drawing slow, big circles over his t-shirt. 

There’s an echoing song playing as a soundtrack to the intro. Louis looks at the stage, amazed, then at the crowd; terrified. There are hundreds of people packed into a small venue and everyone wants to be as close to the stage as they can. Louis turns his eyes back towards the stage, hoping he’ll enjoy this night. The pain in his leg is killing him, but he’s trying to distract himself with the images he’s seeing in front of him.

In the video someone is walking barefoot on different edges. On the edge of a pavement, on the edge of a highway, on the edge of a pool. They walk gracefully, a few flowers dropping from their bouquet of wild flowers. 

Suddenly the lights and the video get turned off and the crowd cheers even louder which breaks Louis’ ears. For a good moment the crowd cheers for someone to come on the stage. It seems like the lights are never going to be turned on. Until. 

 

The stage lights up slowly. Almost like at sunrise. From darkness to warmness to brightness which makes shivers run down Louis’ spine. The crowd roars, the two men standing majestically on the stage. They hold guitars, watching over the crowd. There’s no other sounds, but the audience cheering and clapping. The lights sweep across the sea of people in front of the two performers, disappearing for a nanosecond. The guitars come alive, the lights flashing on and the crowd goes wild. The two performers start to laugh, playing together and enjoying the energy. 

Louis can feel himself freezing. The shivers on his skin and inside his muscles make him tremble uncontrollably. He’s sure he can’t breathe anymore. His lungs collapse at the same time the other performer takes a deep breath in before he starts singing into his microphone. 

The crowd loses its meaning when Louis hears that voice. He knows Jeremy is singing along, not knowing how Louis is dying inside. 

Harry’s eyes shine like he’d have stars in them. Whole universes. Louis is standing so close to the stage that he can hear Harry’s voice without the microphone. 

He has cut his hair. Louis always imagined Harry with his long, curly hair. But now he’s seeing this person, someone new, in front of him. Now those curls are long gone. He looks like a real performer, not someone who played on the streets while trying to get a record deal. His face is glowing and his presence is capturing everyone in the room. Harry still looks the same though. He’s dressed the same. Tightest jeans on the planet are spray painted on him. The black shirt over his torso shows off his strong figure. He’s the same and still not the same. 

Niall is playing his guitar next to Harry, laughing at the audience’s reaction. He’s looking at Harry with admiration. 

Harry’s voice echoes over the crowd. Everyone sings along to the song, which has changed so much since Louis last heard it. It’s still the same, but at the same time it’s like the grown up version of the song, which Harry played for free on the street. 

It’s Harry’s song and he’s achieved his dream. And here Louis is, taking steps back to live a life he once lived, but it still doesn’t feel his own. Seeing Harry reminds Louis only about the times they spent together. His ghost pains move from his leg to his chest, squeezing his heart so tightly that Louis can feel every beat. They vibrate on his skin and in his muscles and in his core and spine. Louis didn’t even realize Jeremy still has his hand on his lower back, until Jeremy moves it to hug Louis closer to his body. He rests his chin on Louis’ shoulder and sings along the song. 

And the only thing Louis wants is to be hugged by Harry, while he hums the original song into Louis’ ear. Without the crowd, without the flashing lights, without the distractions. Just him and Harry, without secrets or double lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 9 
> 
> Tom Odell / Still Getting Used To Being On My Own  
> Sia / Eye of The Needle  
> Daughter / Medicine  
> Interpol / No I in Threesome  
> The Crash / Grace  
> Wolf Alice / Bros  
> Kings of Leon / Milk  
> Jack Garratt / I Couldn’t Want You Anyway  
> Keane / Bedshaped  
> Rooxx / Breathe In  
> Mree / Lift Me Up  
> The Arctic Monkeys / No. 1 Party Anthem  
> LUCHS / Chasing Cloud Nine  
> Beyoncé / All Night  
> M83 / Too Late  
> Nils Frahm / Them

“Give it up for Harry Styles!” Niall yells into his microphone, clapping his hands together while looking at Harry admiringly. The crowd roars while Harry bows his head down, smiling with his dimples on show. He mouths thank you’s to the crowd, moving towards a piano, which has been brought out onto the stage.

“Okay, this next song we wrote when we first got together to do some song writing. It was actually the first song we finished and we’re very lucky we can play it for you tonight. As you all know by now, Harry also plays the piano and in the original track Harry also plays the guitar. But when I found out that he masters the piano too, we had to try it. So here it is…” 

“What do you think?” Louis hears Jeremy’s question in his ear. He’d want to slap Jeremy away because he wants to hear everything Niall and Harry are saying. They’re so relaxed on stage. They joke and talk with the crowd even though it seems like an impossible job. But here they are, doing what they do best and the whole room is filled with such good energy that it gets Louis’ nerves buzzing. 

“Louis?” 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re good,” Louis answers quickly, distracted by Harry’s piano playing. Harry is watching the keys, maybe he’s even nervous to play the song. But the way he plays the instrument is effortless and everything goes smoothly. He lifts his eyes from his hands and listens to Niall sing with a smile on his lips. He moves his head to the rhythm, singing backing vocals to some of Niall’s part. 

The crowd goes wild when Harry starts to sing the chorus and hits every high and low note there possibly is. He looks towards the audience, when they sings the lyrics back to Harry. He listens to the enthused crowd sing, his eyes drifting from face to face. 

Louis doesn’t know if he should do it or not. Jeremy is standing right next to him, he can see everything Louis does. But still, Louis doesn’t know how else he could get Harry’s attention. 

He starts to wave his hand, mouthing Harry’s name and staring at him. Harry clearly sees Louis, smiles a bit wider and then gets back to singing the song. How is this possible? Like he wouldn’t know Louis at all; he should recognise Louis at least a bit. He hasn’t changed that much, it shouldn’t be that hard to not know who Louis is. Especially for Harry, who Louis spent so much time with. 

The songs go on and Louis feels hopeless. He tries to get Harry’s attention, just for a few seconds longer than he already has. Harry has to see that Louis is here. But when Louis waves at him and in the end starts to yell Harry’s name so he could be heard, Harry only smiles and waves back. Louis feels like he could be standing in the furthest corner because Harry’s not doing what Louis wants him to do. 

Well, Louis doesn’t really know what Harry should do. Maybe stare at Louis a bit longer, mouth Louis’ name or say something out loud, in front of the whole crowd. Then again, Louis is with Jeremy. He keeps forgetting Jeremy, who is standing right next to Louis, his hand on Louis’ waist the whole time. He’s having the time of his life and Louis is sure he’d be very confused how Louis knows Harry. 

 

“It’s time for our last song,” Harry says, sweat glistening on his forehead and a few buttons of his shirt showing his chest, where Louis can see sweat drops rushing down. The crowd boos loudly and Louis would want to join. Harry and Niall look at each other and laugh together. 

“I know, we wouldn’t want it to end either. But everything good must come to an end,” Harry spreads his hands out, a puppy dog, sympathetic look on his face. 

“The good thing is, we’re coming back here tomorrow, so if you don’t have a ticket already, then we’re sorry, the gig sold out,” Harry says, earning a cloud of laughter from the audience. 

“We enjoyed the night thoroughly and we hope we can see every single one of you again. Go home safely, thank you!” Harry starts to play a few chords on his guitar already when he’s still talking. Niall nods his head, clapping his hands with the rest of the crowd. 

“Thank you for coming everyone, you’re the best!” Niall says into his mic. Harry gives him a weird look, before he leans closer to his microphone. 

“You’re the best!” He imitates, the crowd laughing and hurrahing at his silliness. 

They play their guitars together, singing their parts and entertaining the audience. Louis still tries to make Harry see him, but he has already given up. Harry is not going to do anything, even if he did recognise Louis. Maybe he's not doing anything because of the audience; it'd be weird for everyone if he called Louis out from the crowd. He’s doing his job and if he disturbs his mind set, maybe it’ll affect the whole atmosphere. Louis just wants Harry to know that he’s here. 

The song is starting to see its end, and the crowd is still chanting the lyrics when Harry and Niall have set their guitars down and walked off the stage. The lights go down slowly, making the crowd cheer with some booing mixing with the noise. The lights come back on, this time lighting up the whole venue and telling the crowd that the concert is over. Louis can’t stop staring at Harry’s guitar. It’s not the same Harry had before. He must’ve broken it or maybe he played it so much that it became scuffed and he had to buy a new one. 

 

“Let’s go,” Jeremy takes Louis’ hand into his and smiles like he would’ve had the best sex of his life. 

They walk among the crowd, taking small steps, almost dragging their feet. The venue is filled with hot air and Louis realises he needs to go outside. He can’t be in this room anymore, it’s too suffocating. Not only because of the other people or Jeremy or because there was a concert which lasted for almost two hours. No, not because of those reasons even though they are key factors too. But because of Harry. 

This is the first time Louis can feel his body reacting to seeing Harry. He didn’t even talk with Harry and all he knows, he could be just a face in the crowd for Harry. But the way his heart fluttered and the way his stomach turned and the way his hands started to shake and his skin crawled with goose bumps when he heard Harry’s voice. It was enough. He never thought he’d react that way and he certainly didn’t think he’d go through those emotions while hundreds of people are behind him. He thought he’s never going to see Harry again and now when he did, his will power to stay true to his promise has truly shaken. 

He promised himself to live the life that was given to him. He promised to be there for his dad, because they only have each other. He promised to make an effort with Jeremy, who has only been good and caring to Louis. He promised to forget the time he was in a coma and that includes Harry. He promised to forget Harry and everything that was part of the time he spent with Harry. Every song and every conversation and every core shaking feeling he had while he was with Harry. 

He promised to not look for Harry because seeing him could be very different this time around. And now Jeremy handed Harry on a silver platter to Louis. He had nothing to do with that and the decision wasn’t in his own hands. Louis made a promise to himself to be a proper boyfriend to Jeremy. And here he is, completely revaluating his decisions just because of Harry. 

 

“What did you think?” Jeremy asks when they’re walking home. Louis is grateful they didn’t take the bus, he needs the fresh air. 

“Who were they again?” Louis needs to hear more. He has to find a way to talk about Harry because his mind is obsessed even if Louis wouldn’t want it. 

“The blond one is Niall Horan. And the other is Harry Styles. They were both street artists, but Niall was discovered long time before Harry. I guess Harry was Niall’s fan already, but when he was signed by the same record label, they got to know each other and decided to record some songs together.” 

Jeremy talks very fast and he’s clearly enthusiastic to talk about them. There’s a bounce in his step and Louis feels like he’s keeping Jeremy from running. 

“They’re not usually gigging together, but they wanted to try something new and I guess it’s good promo for Harry’s album,” Jeremy turns to look at Louis and starts to walk backwards. 

“He hasn’t released anything yet?” 

“Nope, just a couple of EP’s and a single, which is very good. I need to play it for you,” Jeremy stops walking and lets Louis come closer so he can kiss Louis. He embraces Louis against his chest, his hands on Louis’ cheek and neck. Louis knows that he’s not into it and he knows he lets it shine through the kiss. Jeremy pulls back, worry on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just a… A headache and my leg. They’re killing me,” Louis isn’t sure if his lying skills are as good as he’d like them to be. But Jeremy buys it completely, his hand stroking Louis’ hair from his forehead. 

“You should’ve told me, we could’ve left earlier if it’s that bad,” he kisses Louis’ forehead gently before they start walking again. Jeremy walks a little slower this time, his feet in synch with Louis’. 

“No, it was good, I enjoyed the concert,” Louis smiles a little. He’s trying so hard to not start running away just to see if Harry is still at the venue. 

“I’m so happy, I like their music so much and you know, we used to go to concerts all the time so I thought it could be nice to maybe start again.” 

“Yeah,” Louis forces his lips to turn into a smile from their straight line. 

 

They walk in silence. Louis doesn’t see where they’re going or where they are or if he’s still with Jeremy. But someone opens the door for him, which makes him look around to find Jeremy closing the door after them. Louis stares at him while he takes off his shoes and jacket. Jeremy realises he’s being stared at and his eyes drift to Louis. 

“You want me to go?” 

“No, no, you can stay.” 

Jeremy gives a small smile, pecking Louis’ cheek before he brushes past him. 

The house is dark and silent. Stephen must’ve gone to bed already. Louis takes off his shoes and goes straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash cold water to his face. He stares at his own image in the mirror and feels like he’s staring at a stranger. His mind is in a completely different place than his body and it makes him feel uneasy. But he can’t do anything about it now. He just has to get through this, maybe he’ll not see Harry again. 

 

The light is on in Louis’ room and he finds Jeremy sitting on his bed, doing something on his phone. 

“I’ll go and wash my teeth, wait for me before you fall asleep,” Jeremy says quietly, leaving his phone on the bed. Louis nods his head and lets Jeremy past him. Louis closes his door and changes his clothes. He can feel his eyes getting heavier, but his mind is more awake than ever. He sits on his bed, but decides to go under the duvet. He closes his eyes for just a moment while seeing Harry in his mind. 

He hears a silent chuckle, but doesn’t open his eyes. He was planning to open his eyes, but he doesn’t want to face Jeremy any more tonight. He just can’t look Jeremy in the eyes and pretend everything’s okay. Jeremy switches the lights off and crawls under the same duvet, hugging Louis against his chest. Louis listens to Jeremy breathing against the back of his neck while feeling completely trapped. He has no idea what he should do now. It’s not healthy for him to chase Harry, it’s pointless. But he can’t stop thinking about the moment when he could meet Harry in private and they could talk and maybe be friends like they used to be. Harry must have a boyfriend by now and Louis is with Jeremy so what could he do; nothing. 

 

Louis finally opens his eyes when he can feel Jeremy falling asleep against his body. His breathing gets slower and his arm around Louis gets heavier. Louis opens his eyes slowly. They feel heavy, but he knows that it's not because he'd be tired. His whole body is heavy. Every thought that swirls in his mind is so exhausting that they feel like rocks. He knows he can't get rid of them right now; he has to live with them. The thoughts are filtered through memories, which make Jeremy's arms feel like a cage. 

Louis stares into the darkness of his room for a moment before he’s completely sure Jeremy is sleeping. He moves Jeremy’s arm away gently. He moves so slowly that he feels his muscles shaking lightly. He doesn’t put the lights on when he fumbles to find his phone. But when he finds it, he leaves his room quietly so Jeremy isn’t going to wake up. 

Louis sees that a light in the kitchen is on. He tip toes there, finding his dad sitting by the dining table. He’s drinking tea, dressed in a bathrobe. 

“Dad?” Louis startles him from his thoughts. 

“Louis, why’re you up?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Louis walks to his dad and sits next to him. 

“You want tea?” Stephen asks, his tired eyes watching his son with sadness. Louis nods, placing his phone on the table. 

 

“Why can’t you sleep?” Louis asks when his dad gives him a mug filled with warm tea. Louis takes a sip and cradles the mug between his palms. 

“I’m just thinking about your mum,” Stephen says, sighing, while rubbing his eyes gently. Louis feels his body getting even heavier just from the thought of his mum. Today she has been gone for a year. Louis didn’t even realise it until now. He doesn’t feel like she has been gone for so long. For him it hasn’t even been that long from the last time he saw Donna. 

“I should’ve stayed at home with you,” Louis takes his dad’s hand into his and holds it on the table. They sip their teas in silence, both staring at the table. 

“No, you should celebrate life. It was just her time to go. Even though it makes me incredibly sad and I miss her immensely, I can’t do anything about it,” Stephen talks with a hushed voice. Louis doesn't know if he should tell his dad the truth. That Donna decided her time was up by herself. That for her the car accident wasn't just an accident. It wasn't some unfortunate turn of events. She knew how she'd go and she made it happen. The thought of his mum and her decision makes the situation even harder. Louis knows something his dad doesn't and he has to carry this burden. Does he want to share it with his dad? Would it be fair? Would it make any difference? Louis glances at his dad, ready to open his mouth.

“Mum is here, you know that right? Even though you wouldn’t be able to see her, she’s still here,” Louis knows that it might sound completely crazy to his dad, but it's the best thing he can say. He might know about Donna’s decision, but his dad doesn't have to know about it. He doesn't want Stephen to suffer more than he already is. He doesn't need that extra sorrow into his life. Louis knows that his mum is here right at this moment. They wouldn’t be this calm right now if she wouldn’t be here. 

“I know,” Stephen says, a hint of smile in his voice. 

 

They sit by the table in complete silence. Until Louis remembers the real reason he couldn’t sleep. 

“Do you mind if I listen to a song?” Louis asks, already unlocking his phone. 

“Not at all,” Stephen says, waiting to hear something. Louis finds Harry’s music quickly. It’s all over the internet and he has no idea how he could’ve missed it. Well, maybe he missed it because Louis hasn’t been keeping up with any music. He hasn’t been listening to anything, which is a bit weird to him. Now he likes to be in silence; he doesn’t like the constant noise even when he would be listening to some of his favourite bands. 

Harry’s voice streams into the room softly. Louis doesn’t have to put the volume up, it’s quiet enough for him and Stephen to hear the song. Louis notices that Harry has released his demo as an EP. It brings back so many memories; the times Louis helped Harry record the songs in an actual studio and the times they talked about it and the songs and how they could perfect them. Louis closes his eyes because he’s afraid he’s going to start crying. He misses those times so much that it triggers the phantom pain in his chest again. 

“Do you remember this song?” Stephen asks and when Louis opens his eyes, he’s staring at Louis in wonder. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Jeremy played this song to you a lot while you were in the hospital,” he says and smiles. He hums along quietly. He takes Louis’ empty mug and takes them to the sink. 

“I guess so,” Louis listens to the song intently, wanting to hear every word Harry sings and every chord that he plays on his guitar. It sounds like Harry would be in the room with him. 

 

“You went to see this same performer tonight, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Was it good?” 

“Very,” Louis doesn’t know what else to say. Stephen smiles gently before he yawns with his mouth wide open. 

“I’m glad to hear you had a good time,” Stephen rubs his hand over his face, sighing deeply.

“I think I’ll go back to bed.” 

“Goodnight, dad,” Louis says before his dad hugs his shoulders. 

“Love you, Louis.” 

“Love you too, dad,” Louis watches his dad disappear behind the corner and listens to him walking upstairs. He stays in the kitchen to listen to the song a few more times. It was Harry’s first own song, which Louis heard him play. They were in Harry’s living room. Louis was sitting on the floor and Harry was on the couch. Louis saw how Harry’s hands shook slightly while he was playing and he thought it was adorable. When Harry finished the song, he looked so proud of himself. And now Louis can listen to the song whenever he wants because Harry achieved his dream. 

When Louis goes back to bed, he knows he’s either not going to sleep or then he’s going to dream about Harry. He wraps Jeremy’s arm around him. It doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before and Louis hopes it’ll stay like that. He closes his eyes, hoping he’ll not remember any of this in the morning. If he does, well, then he’s in a real pickle. 

 

\- - - - 

 

A lump rises in Louis’ throat. It makes his heart hammer, his palms sweat and his tongue twist into one big knot. He stares at the pub in front of him. People come and go, some walking in, some walking out. It seems to be a quiet night. There’s no loud noises coming from inside and the darkened windows look like there’d be no one inside. 

Only one step forward makes Louis’ head turn from a mess into quietness. He had so many questions and things to say and suddenly it’s empty. Just a white space fills the corners of his brain, like he’d have no brain at all. Everything seems filled with shadows and memories, which seem like they never happened. The times he went into the pub with Harry or the times he helped Harry out. Louis can’t trust those images even though he can see them so clearly in his mind. 

The white in his head starts to gather colours. He knows he has to go inside and see if Harry is inside. If he’s not, maybe Liam will be there. He just needs to talk to someone who he knows will know Louis. They feel like the people who actually understand Louis; see him as the person who he actually is. Not some reflection of the person he used to be. They'll see him as the person who he became after the accident. They know the true Louis.

 

The door opens effortlessly, swinging back and forth behind Louis’ back when he steps inside. Like he thought, it’s a quiet night. Some middle aged people sit here and there, mumbling in their different stages of consciousness, holding onto their drinks with their fingertips turning white. Their faces are flushed red, the heat from the alcohol making their body temperature rise too high. Their eyes travel across the room, not seeing anything or registering a thing that comes into their line of vision. Everything’s just a blur in their life, it’s not really a life anymore. Just a state of sleepiness which prevents them from having anything. 

Only exception in the bar is Liam. He’s drying glasses behind the counter, a light hearted smile on his face. But when his eyes land on a customer, a shadow colours his eyes a little darker every time. He’s watching the people around him, not capable of doing anything. He can’t do anything, he doesn’t know these people. The only thing he can do is not let these people drink in this pub anymore tonight and call them a cab somewhere. But where will these people go? 

“Hello there,” Liam greets Louis. His eyes land on Louis like he’d be a lovely surprise in this dark evening. 

“Hi, Liam,” Louis breathes out. He can feel his hands trembling and his pulse beating incredibly fast. Is this like having a heart attack? Feeling like his heart is beating too fast that it feels like it doesn’t beat at all? Liam looks at Louis a funny glint in his eyes; an uncertainty, like Louis would’ve said something wrong. 

“Ummm,” he mumbles, his eyes drifting across the bar, from customer to customer. His eyes linger on every single person sitting on their seats, like they’d give him some answers. Louis walks over to the counter, sitting on one of the bar stools. He leans against his arms, thinking if he should order something with alcohol. He doesn’t know if he should, he doesn’t know how it’ll affect him. He hasn’t drank since the accident. He doesn’t really know why, maybe he’s scared. Or just appalled. 

Liam doesn’t come forward or ask anything. He only stares at Louis from the corner of his eye, drying the glass in his hands carefully with the white towel. Over and over again he dries the same spots, like it wouldn't dry at all. 

“Could I have something non-alcoholic?” Louis finally asks. He needs to get to speak with Liam. He needs to speak with someone who he knows. Or at least knows by name. Louis hasn’t really been close with Liam, only seen him a few times at the bar and a few times in passing. They don’t really know each other, but he reminds Louis about his previous life. Seeing Liam gives Louis comfort; he gives Louis hope of returning to be the person who he really is. 

Liam pours water into a glass and sets it in front of Louis without a word, stepping back as soon as his hands are empty again. He opens his mouth, taking a breath in. Louis waits patiently for some words to come out of his mouth, but then Liam closes it, deciding against his first thought. He opens his mouth again and Louis knows he’s not going to back out again. 

 

“How do you know my name?” Liam’s deep brown eyes seem to take all of Louis’ air from his lungs. The question throws Louis off guard; why is he asking this? Then again, they haven’t met in a while. It has to be because of that. 

“Well, you’re Liam,” Louis says in a laugh, like it’d be the most obvious answer in the world. But it clearly doesn’t satisfy Liam. His forehead crumbles into deep lines, his brows create darkness over his eyes. 

“I know that, but how do you know that?” 

“Because we’ve met before, it’s a while back, but still… we know each other,” Louis shakes his head in small, twitching movements, a confused smile on his face. 

“I think I’d remember someone who looks like you,” Liam sets the towel from his hands on the counter, leaning his hands against it. 

“And I’m pretty sure I’ve never met you,” he looks deep into Louis’ eyes, which makes Louis’ smile fade. 

“I’ve met you many times,” Louis counters back, which makes Liam stand up straight. 

“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“No, I haven’t. You’re Liam, you work here, mostly during nights. You and Harry have been friends for a while, he never told me how long exactly. But when he moved into the city, you first met him here. He was one of your customers,” Louis explains. He can hear Harry’s voice in his head, talking about meeting Liam for the first time. Harry had been spending his time at another pub, but when he got the feeling he was being judged by the people there, he decided to find some other place to spend his evening at. That’s when he had stepped his foot inside this bar close to his apartment. And he had talked with Liam, who was friendly and took Harry’s mind off of things that bothered him at the time. 

 

“Are you a fan of his?” 

“What?” 

“Do you stalk him? How else would you know so much about him?” Liam raises his brows, a form of disgust spreading into his eyes. 

“No!” 

“How do you know so much about me and him then? How would you know about us meeting for the first time if you weren’t some crazy fan?” 

“Because I’m his friend,” Louis looks at Liam in confusion. 

“And what is your name?” 

“Louis, you know that,” Louis states, almost annoyed by Liam. 

“Sorry, don’t know anyone who has a name like some French king,” Liam shrugs, taking the towel and a wet glass into his hands. He starts to dry it while looking at Louis with hard eyes. 

“What?” 

 

“You know what, Louis? I’m going to let you finish that glass of water and not charge anything for it. When you’re finished, I want you to leave and never come back. I also want you to leave Harry alone, he doesn’t need any stalkers,” Liam gives Louis a look, which can only be read as protectiveness. It makes Louis feel like he’s being abandoned by his friend. 

“No, listen, I really know you. I don’t understand why you’re being like this,” Louis feels his heart picking up its pace again, like it wouldn’t already be hammering in his chest. 

“Like I said, I don’t know you and I wish you would drop it already,” Liam sighs, not caring to give Louis another look. 

“But I don’t underst…” Louis silences him. Liam doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know Louis. That would also explain why Harry didn’t react in any way when he saw Louis at the concert. He didn’t know Louis either. They don’t know him. 

 

“You don’t know me,” Louis mutters out loud, his eyes staring at a spot on the counter. It explains so much. 

“Nope, that’s why I want you to leave as soon as you’re finished with your drink,” Liam says coldly. 

“Listen to me,” Louis says in a rushed tone. Liam gives Louis a look from the corner of his, completely fed up with Louis’ antics. 

“No, you don’t understand me. I do know you, but for some reason you don’t know me. I’ve been in this bar with Harry, you’ve even helped me find him, when Harry was completely wasted…” 

“What did you say?” 

“What?” 

Liam steps forward, setting the glass and the towel on the table, a fierce look in his eyes. 

“If you’re some gossip reporter, that isn’t true. Harry is no drunk,” he says angrily, defending Harry even though he’s not here. 

“No, no, I’m not saying that. He just used to drink a lot when things went bad. And I know that he probably hasn’t done it in a while. Not after he got the recording deal. But before that I used to help him, I was just there for him.” 

Liam stares at Louis, doubting every word that leaves his mouth. Louis feels like he’s being accused of some horrible crime, like Liam would have the power to put Louis to jail and make sure he’ll stay there forever. 

 

“When did this happen?” Liam asks in Louis’ surprise. 

“A while back, months ago. I was supposed to help him and make sure he’s going to be fine,” Louis feels like he’s the size of a little pea in a pod. Like Liam would be the one who would harvest Louis and eat him if Louis would say anything that doesn’t make Liam happy. 

“He never mentioned you. And I certainly don’t remember you.” 

“I know, I know… it’s hard to explain, because the whole thing is a bit complicated. I understand that you don’t remember me, maybe Harry doesn’t remember me either. I’m actually pretty sure he doesn’t. But… I don’t know what else to tell you. I was there when he hit the bottom and then he got back to his feet. I was there the whole time even if you wouldn’t remember me.” 

Liam moves in slow motion after hearing what Louis has to say. He’s clearly thinking about the possibility of Louis telling the truth. There just aren’t any other ways for Louis tell Liam that he isn’t lying. 

“I have time,” Liam says, pulling a stool from under the counter. He sits down opposite from Louis. 

“For what?” 

“I need you to tell me how you know Harry, how you know those things,” Liam isn’t going to let this go, he’s making Louis tell him how anything would make sense. The problem is, even Louis doesn’t know how everything makes sense. He doesn’t understand anything. Hell, he just found out Liam doesn’t remember him! How is he going to explain he was an angel for crying out loud? 

“Uhhh… I really don’t know where to begin,” Louis doesn’t turn his eyes away from Liam’s. It’d only seem suspicious if he wouldn’t look Liam in the eye. 

“Start somewhere, anything that comes to mind.” 

 

“I went on a date with Harry once, before I knew him very well,” Louis begins, deciding to start from the beginning. 

“I didn’t know him at all back then. I met him for the first time in here actually. I guess he had had a bad day, he had a glass of whiskey in his hands. I walked him home that night, he looked like he needed some company. After that I took him out. We went to eat fish and chips, but he left when I said something unconsidered, which wasn’t my brightest moment. He came here and when I got here, you told me to take him home. He was so drunk he didn’t know how to speak anymore. After that I was there, but there’s also a reason why you don’t remember me. I just think I have to leave it out. It could make me look like a complete nutcase and I don’t want you to think like that of me.” 

Liam listens to Louis closely, not letting any word slip through his consciousness. Louis doesn’t know what to think, if it was even right of him to tell these things to Liam. If he doesn’t remember Louis, then Harry doesn’t remember him either. And if Harry doesn’t remember Louis, then it’s possible none of the things Louis just told Liam are true. Maybe none of it happened. Maybe Louis just dreamt of it all while he was in a coma. Maybe everything has been a lie and he was in some weird space, waiting for the final decision for his destiny. Maybe he was just supposed to make himself busy while others were making decision for him. 

“Harry does like his whiskey,” Liam says quietly, a small smile breaking his cool exterior. Louis answers that small smirk, not daring to make anything more out of that comment. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe Liam just said that to make Louis relax just a little bit. 

 

“If Harry really knows you, then you should talk with him. He knows who he can and can’t trust. But I ask you to be honest with him. He doesn’t need people, who hurt him, in his life. He has been hurt enough in the past,” Liam says, some warmth seeping through his eyes, before they melt into the familiar teddy bear mode. Louis smiles gently, nodding. 

“I know,” Louis says, making Liam narrow his eyes just the slightest, like Louis would be the biggest riddle in the world. Louis takes a sip of his water, which feels good in his dry mouth. It refreshes his mind, the water washes away the tension from his shoulders. 

Someone comes into the bar and the cold air, which comes in through the door, makes Louis shudder. The first thought he has is that the person is Harry. But when he turns around, he sees an old man with a grey beard and sad eyes walking in, dragging his feet against the wooden floor. Louis turns back around and meets Liam’s gaze. He’s looking at Louis, studying his reactions closely.

“I hope I meet you again,” Liam suddenly says, standing up and moving the stool back under the counter. Louis looks at him, like this wouldn’t be happening. Liam gives Louis a single nod before he turns his back to Louis and goes to serve the new customer. Louis blinks his eyes a few time, like he wouldn’t be able to see properly. He takes another sip of his water before he sets it back on the table and stands up. He is afraid to turn around and face the door. He’s afraid Harry is going to walk through it and Louis would need to face him right now. But when Louis does turn around, no one comes through the door. Louis walks hastily, giving Liam one last look. He sees Liam turning his eyes away; he was already watching Louis leave.

Louis pushes the door open and breathes in the fresh air. He starts to walk away, rushing away from Harry’s area. He doesn’t want to bump into Harry, not just yet. He has to think about what he’s going to say to Harry when he finally meets him again. Louis just already knows that it’ll take great courage from him. And he doesn’t know where to get that courage. 

Or how he could reach Harry. 

 

\- - - -

 

A huge crowd gathers around Harry. Louis tries to stay with everyone, stay in front row, but it starts to get impossible. Maybe Harry and who ever planned this street concert didn’t think it through properly. Maybe they thought only a small amount of people will come there, the concert being so early and all. People should be at work and school. Louis is supposed to be at a lecture. But here he is, being pushed back by the enthusiastic crowd where everyone wants to get close to Harry. 

He only has his guitar and his voice and his smile and the love for performing. Louis feels like he’s watching a completely different person. He does still see the same Harry, but this newer version is having fun rather than doing this for the money. Of course Harry enjoyed it before too. But now, when everything’s more settled, he can actually enjoy doing what he loves. He has a spark in his eyes, which only gets stronger the more he sees people around him and who sing along with him. Sometimes he can’t even finish a lyric because he starts to giggle. Louis laughs with him, but then feels stupid. 

Harry doesn’t know him. Harry knows nothing about Louis. In his world Louis doesn’t even exist. Louis is just a face in the crowd, someone who’s star struck by Harry. Louis doesn’t even bother to try getting Harry’s attention. It feels dumb standing right in front of Harry, waving his hands and trying to get Harry to notice him. Harry will probably just wave and smile back. It’d only make Louis feel worse, like he’d be in a parallel universe where he’s not even allowed to talk with Harry. 

He can only wave his hands helplessly. He can only try make Harry see him, so Harry could bring Louis back to this world and get his voice back. And maybe in some magical way, Harry would get to know Louis. And then Louis could tell Harry they already know each other and Harry would remember everything. 

But that doesn’t happen. 

Security escorts Harry out from the street and away from the mass of people. He’s saying bye to everyone, blowing kisses to the people who are trying to make him stay by pleading him to come back and singing his songs. Louis pulls back and stays to stand alone on the street when the audience of a few hundred people go after Harry. He can hear them even when they’ve all rounded a corner and are already a few blocks away. 

The helpless feeling of not getting anywhere takes over Louis. He’s maybe wasting his time by trying to meet Harry in the most bizarre ways. And the only places he can see Harry are his concerts. Louis wouldn’t want to stalk Harry even though it already feels like he’s doing it. Even Louis feels uncomfortable, but when his eyes finally land on Harry, he knows why he’s doing it. Why he’s skipping lectures so he could maybe one day say something to Harry. Louis hasn’t thought much longer than that. 

When he finally will meet Harry, first he’s going to introduce himself. Louis can already imagine that moment in his mind. He can hear himself saying his name and looking into Harry’s eyes. Harry will probably extend his hand so they’ll shake hands. After that everything’s still blurry. Louis has no idea how he could say anything to Harry when even seeing him makes Louis’ knees feel weak and his heart beat rapidly like a hummingbird would be captured in his chest. 

Louis starts to walk home, his feet leading him somewhere else. Like his feet would have their own will. Louis watches the streets turning more familiar as he gets closer and closer to Harry’s apartment. He’s not actually even sure if Harry still lives there. Maybe he has moved somewhere else, somewhere fancier and more suitable for a real musician. When Louis looks up towards the windows he once knew belonged to Harry, it feels like he has come home. The familiar feeling of looking after Harry and maybe going up to his flat get so strong that Louis almost wants to go and ring the building’s buzzer. It wouldn’t matter if Harry wouldn’t answer, even a stranger letting him in would mean like he would’ve found home. 

That doesn’t happen though. None of it happens. Louis stands on the street watching Harry’s building and then turns his back on it. He has a concert coming up and he has to be ready to finally get Harry to see and hear him. 

 

\- -

 

The crowd jumps uncontrollably. Louis tries to stay along, but he’s having a hard time not getting lost from the front row and from the fence, which keeps the people away from the stage. It’s definitely more frightening to be at the concert without someone who he could trust by his side. His leg is killing him and the people are making his head ache. His hands squeeze the fence so hard his knuckles are completely white. He’s sure he has impaled his palms with his bitten down nails. 

The lights seem brighter than in the first concert Louis went to. They feel blinding, like they could read Louis’ mind and give the information to Harry. Louis feels naked in the front row, alone and completely in charge of himself. At the same time it feels terrifying. He hasn’t been alone since the accident. Jeremy has been there so much that Louis has forgotten what it feels to be alone. He can’t remember what it feels like walking alone somewhere without a destination or meaning to meet Jeremy. But now, when he has been on his little quests to find Harry, he feels like he’s taking his first steps in the big world. 

He has been feeling like a small child who needs someone to hold his hand when he’s crossing the road to somewhere unknown. Louis knows that he’s in the middle of a crossroad, but he’s not moving. He’s not even making an effort to move. He just stands there, weighing his options and trying to do the right thing. Everything feels much harder now than before the accident. Then he was ready to do whatever came his way. He was ready to jump head first into the deep end and find things that he liked. Now he feels like he has to find the things he liked once again and pretend he likes them still. Those things are pulling him to the other direction at the crossroad. 

The other way is hidden. It’s behind a curtain. Louis can’t see what’s behind it unless he chooses that road and opens the curtain. He can’t look back after that, he just has to walk forward and take everything as they come. And those lights that are blinding him feel like that curtain. He can’t see through them and they can see through him. They know everything about Louis and he can’t do anything about it. 

Louis knows that Harry has seen him. A few times actually. Louis is starting to remember some of the lyrics and he keeps his hand in the air. His other hand is still clutching the fence hard, but the other is having fun. When Harry first saw Louis, he smiled and waved. It felt like Louis had imagined it to be. Louis waves at him and Harry waves back, smiles and keeps on playing. Even though Louis thought Harry’s face would twist in some way, show that he knows Louis, that doesn’t happen. Harry is happy and smiling and waving to people who wave to him. But Harry’s eyes keep drifting to Louis. He keeps smiling, but his eyes say something more. They’re watching, they’re taking notes of Louis, they make sure Harry remembers Louis. 

 

When the night turns colder and the city lights shine brightly, Louis walks to Harry’s supposed apartment. He has been walking for a while now, a bag filled with a notebook and a book for his lecture make his shoulders feel heavy. His skin feels clammy after being in the crowded room for over two hours. His limbs feel like they’re going to fall off from queuing the whole day to get to the front row. At least he made it, he was at the concert and Harry saw him again. 

The lights are on. Only faint lights, but still lights. Louis watches the windows, hoping to catch someone. When he sees that familiar tall figure by the window, his heart stops for a while. He’s looking straight towards Harry’s windows and Harry is standing on the other side, ready to close the curtains. But he stops. He stops and stares and Louis stares right back at him. The feeling of getting his mind read makes Louis’ muscles tremble. He looks away and turns around. He can’t look back, he doesn’t want to look back. He got caught. Harry saw him, Louis is 150% sure about it. 

It wasn’t his plan. Louis only thought he’d go for a walk and maybe see if someone is home. He thought he’d just walk past Harry’s building, not stay there like a real stalker. He never planned to stand there for who knows how long and then get caught. Louis startles from his thoughts when his phone starts to ring in his jeans pocket. For a moment he’s afraid it’s Harry. But how could it be, Harry doesn’t even know Louis’ number. He still doesn’t know Louis at all. Louis is just a guy who likes to stalk him. 

 

“Hello?” Louis answers, realising he sounds like he’d be extremely terrified by the caller. 

“Louis, where are you?” His dad’s voice comes through the device. Louis can breathe freely again, knowing that it’s definitely not Harry. 

“I’m coming home,” Louis speeds his walking a bit, it has to be late already. His dad wouldn’t call him if he wouldn’t actually be very worried. 

“Where have you been?” 

“Uhhh…” Louis hates lying. But this moment needs a white lie.

“I was at UNI, studying, the usual. Then I met with Jeremy and went to his. We lost track of time and I just now realised I have to come home. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Louis convinces, even believing his own words. He hopes Stephen will believe them too. 

“Oh, okay. Well, come home safely,” Stephen wishes, finding calmness to his voice. 

“Yeah, I will, see you soon.” 

Louis hangs up before his dad can say anything. He does hear his dad saying something, but his phone is already too far away from his ear to actually distinguish what his dad said. 

Louis feels bad. Like he would’ve done something forbidden, something which he could go to jail for. He tries to shake the feeling off, but he can’t. He thinks about tonight the whole way home, even when he falls on top of his own bed. He closes his eyes and sees Harry in the window. He was looking straight down at Louis, he saw Louis. Did he recognise Louis? 

Louis doesn’t know. 

 

\- -

 

Louis knows that he’s being a stalker. He knows he shouldn’t follow Harry around. He knows he should just go up to Harry and say hi and maybe ask if Harry remembers him. 

The scariest thing is that Louis already knows the answer. He knows that Harry will say no if Louis would ask the question. Harry would smile and say no and turn away. Maybe he’d also think that he needs better security. The crazy stalker has finally found me. 

It’s not until Louis sees Harry going home one night. Louis has been sitting on the curb for a few hours already. He has been trying to listen to the bands he liked before, but he can’t get Harry from his mind. He settles for quietness instead. Or the street noises, whatever. It’s never quiet on this street, but Louis hasn’t realised it before. These streets are never silent, it's obvious. He's just so used to the noise that it starts to remind him of silence.

There’s a beer bottle next to Louis. He has been sipping from it to keep himself warm. It also helps him to keep the lies from his mind. He’s ashamed by how many times he has lied to his dad about where he’s at. Louis is practically an adult already, but living at home makes it different. His dad wants to know if Louis is okay, if he’s with people who he can trust. Jeremy’s name slips from Louis’ mouth embarrassingly often when he comes up with the white lies. Stephen might already think Louis is some sort of a sex maniac because he’s “always hanging out at Jeremy’s place”. 

Then that one night comes. He sees Harry. He’s sipping beer when he sees the familiar figure walking towards the familiar building. Harry is digging the pocket of his jacket and when he pulls his hand out, even Louis can hear the keys jingling. Harry takes quick steps up to the door and goes in. Just like that. He comes and goes and Louis stares. It’s not until that moment when Louis realises he has become obsessed. It’s not until that moment when he thinks he might be sick. He sees the lights switching on in the familiar apartment. Louis can’t stop thinking if all the furniture are still at the same places as when Louis was there the last time. 

Louis is disgusted by the way he thinks. He’s disgusted by himself. And embarrassed. He should stop. But he doesn’t know how. He needs something so he can end it, he just needs… Something. Closure, if you want to put it that way. Louis just doesn’t know how that could happen. He’s too afraid to actually face Harry. He’s still not sure what he should say to Harry if he ever faces him. Or maybe Louis never knew what he’d need to say. 

 

With a long sigh, Louis tips the bottle back and chucks the alcohol down his throat. He stands up and takes the bottle with him, walking away. He doesn’t want to look back even though there’s a strong urge for him to give those windows one last look. But he doesn’t. He keeps on walking with his head bowed down. He’s tired, way too tired, to fight back his own Harry-addiction. 

Harry is like a piece of good chocolate cake at this point. The cake has different layers and flavours. It’s delicious and moist, but not too moist. The cake is just perfect. Louis would want to stop eating it; he knows he’ll only get stomach ache if he keeps on going back to the cake. Every time he thinks he can do it, the craving for more cake takes control over his head and pulls him back. He’d want to stop his addiction, but it keeps calling Louis back and make him want even more. 

Maybe it’s good he didn’t look back. Maybe it’s good he didn’t give those windows any attention. Maybe it’s good that he didn’t see Harry looking down onto the street behind the curtains, watching Louis sitting on the curb and twiddling with the bottle between his hands. 

 

\- - 

 

“Whoa!” Harry laughs when he walks down the steps outside his building. Tony is standing next to a black car with tinted glasses. He smiles crookedly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. His black ensemble makes him look like some secret agent in Harry’s eyes and he knows he can’t resist it at the end of the evening. Tony’s piercing blue eyes pull Harry forward and keep him still, like Tony could tie Harry with some invisible strings and never let him go. Tony’s soft, low voice is like the rumbling of a faraway thunder which will never come too close, but it’ll make Harry think he should unplug everything in his home. 

“Your carriage awaits,” Tony bows and curtsies, his eyes slowly drifting to Harry’s. He winks and snickers when he sees Harry’s incredulous smile. 

“Why did you do this?” Harry takes the last few steps before he presses Tony against the car and cradles his waist between his palms. Harry tilts his head, thinking that he doesn’t deserve this. Nothing he has gotten in the past months seem like something he deserves. And now he has Tony. He doesn’t even know how they really met. It just happened and suddenly Harry is dating someone. He has never dated anyone, he never even thought he could date someone. He thought he's not capable of dating anyone, let alone liking someone this much. He was so used to one night stands that he thought it was everything he’ll ever get. Then Tony came along and the rest seems like history. 

It’s not like they’re going to marry each other right now. It’s all just very comfortable and nice. Harry feels like he can do it, like it’s all going to be fine and dandy from now on. He could have it all. 

 

“I wanted to spoil you a bit,” Tony smiles and pecks Harry’s cheeks before giving him a proper kiss. Harry smiles through it, closing his eyes and thinking how easy everything is. Fine and dandy. 

Harry hugs Tony tightly, feeling like Tony is a blanket and he’s going to warm Harry on a cold spring evening. Maybe that’s going to happen, Harry wouldn’t at least say no if that would be the case. Harry opens his eyes and holds his head against Tony’s shoulder. He watches the people on the street, only seeing the smiling faces and the groups expecting to have a fun night. Just so fucking fine and dandy. 

Harry feels his muscles freezing. He doesn’t even realize why his body turns tight until he sees that boy. The one who has been stalking him almost every day for the past few weeks. He looks like he’s going to start crying; his mouth is ajar, his eyes look sad, even his brows have turned downward. Harry stares at him and the boy stares back. His mouth starts to move. Harry doesn’t know if he’s saying something or if the boy is only in the loss for words. His feet start carrying him away, but he doesn’t turn around. He keeps staring at Harry until he realises he can turn around. He starts to walk fast, almost running, away. He disappears into the crowded street, like he wouldn’t have ever been there. 

 

“You okay?” Tony asks, pushing Harry upright so he can see Harry’s face. 

“Yeah, fine and dandy, great even!” Harry smiles, knowing that his lying skill are terrible. Tony tilts his head, lifting his brows. 

“There’s just this guy who I’ve seen everywhere lately. I guess he knows I live her…” Harry shakes his head. He looks towards the other side of the street, like the boy would still be standing there. It’s almost disappointing he’s not. 

“Do you have your first stalker?” Tony asks, laughing lightly.

“C’mon, that’s not funny! What if he’s somehow obsessed and will break into my flat while I’m sleeping or something!” 

“If that happens, you can trust me to be there and I’ll kick him out,” Tony says seriously, before breaking into a dashing smile. 

“But…” 

“If you’re really worried, why won’t you tell your manager or someone? Call the police? Make your bodyguard tell the guy to leave. If I’d be that guy and your bodyguard would tell me to fuck off, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second,” Tony moves his hands to Harry’s shoulders and squeezes them a few times. Harry smiles and nods. He lets Tony pull him into the car and he hears Tony telling him where they’re going and what the plan for tonight is. A restaurant, a movie, maybe a couple of drinks, ending the evening at his place… 

 

Why can’t Harry tell his manager someone’s following him? Why can’t he make the move to protect himself? Why doesn’t that sound like the wisest move? 

So fucking fine and dandy and here Harry is thinking about a guy who seems to be stalking him. The boy just doesn’t seem like a threat or like a crazy person. He doesn’t seem like a person who’d want to harm Harry. There’s something that makes Harry question why the boy is following Harry around. It just doesn’t make any sense. 

Even when Harry would tell Tony that the boy could come and slit his throat. That would never happen. The boy doesn’t seem like that. There’s something more to it and Harry is sure the guy is just trying to find the way to confront it. Maybe he thinks Harry is someone else? Maybe the boy is a street artist too and wants to know how Harry made it. Well, if he’d come and ask that then Harry’s only answer would be that he doesn’t know. It all just happened. 

Yet again, serial killers are always the ones who look the kindest. 

 

\- - 

 

It’s the second day Louis feels like he’s in a strict rehab program. He’s forced to stay away from Harry’s; it has become too dangerous for him to go back there. And yet again, he goes there. The good thing is that he hasn’t seen Harry. Louis doesn’t stay to stand on the other side of the street anymore though, he leaves and thinks he’s getting stronger. Maybe soon he won’t have to go back to Harry’s building anymore. He’s getting stronger, Louis is convinced of that. 

When Louis pushes his keys inside the lock of his house, he has to bite back tears. He’s not getting better. He feels like he’s going through a rough breakup with the love of his life. Seeing Harry with someone else, in some other man’s embrace, hit Louis like the stranger would’ve stuck a knife deep in Louis’ chest. He twisted the knife and laughed, while Harry watched Louis suffering. The tears sting in Louis’ eyes while he shakes his head like it’d help get rid of the stupid droplets. 

“Louis?” He hears his dad calling from the kitchen. Louis stops for a moment, waiting to hear if his dad is going to say something more or if he’s going to come meet him. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks when nothing happens. 

“Can you come here?” Stephen asks, the tone in his voice unclear. Louis feels uneasy, like something’s very wrong. He drops his backpack from his shoulder. It thuds on the floor. It reminds Louis of all the study books he's carrying around for nothing. They're there reminding him he's still a student, but he doesn't see a point in opening them. He toes off his shoes and leaves his jacket on other jackets which hang in a hallstand. He walks slowly, expecting to see a huge group of people waiting for him for some reason. Maybe a police and the secret service. Maybe Harry has tracked him down and now he has to go to jail. Louis can already hear his dad’s words in his head: “I’m not angry, I’m just very disappointed”. 

When Louis peeks into the kitchen, he only sees his dad. He’s sitting by the table, his hands clasped together. 

“Please, take a seat,” he says, looking straight into Louis’ eyes. Louis sits down slowly. He feels like a little child who really has done something bad. Maybe stolen some money from his dad’s wallet or gotten detention too often. He waits for Stephen to say something, but he clearly doesn’t know where to begin. He turns his eyes away from Louis. They can’t focus on anything, he seems distracted by something. Louis is already thinking the worst. Has something happened to his dad? Is something going to happen to him? 

 

“Louis, I need to be completely honest with you…” Stephen says before his eyes find Louis’ again. 

“Okay,” Louis is feeling like he’s in a gaming show. The host is keeping him on the edge of his seat on purpose and it irritates Louis so much. He’d like to slap his palms against the table and demand his dad to explain what is going on. But he decides against it. Something’s telling Louis he needs to be calm right now. Maybe because he can’t lose it right now. He feels like he hasn’t been home at all for a few weeks and his dad seems very worried. And if he’s under a lot of stress, it could drive him to gambling again. 

“Tell me where you’ve been today,” Stephen says, his eyes turning harder and making Louis feel very small. 

“I was at a couple of lectures and then went to…” 

“Lies! Don’t lie to me, Louis!” Stephen is the one to slap his hands against the table. He stands up and starts to pace around the kitchen. Louis is afraid to say anything. Has he really been caught? Maybe the police is coming to his house. Maybe he’s getting arrested for first degree stalking. 

“I got a call from the university. Apparently you’ve only been to a handful of lectures and haven’t returned any of the assignments you were meant to. If you keep going like this, you’re going to be in serious trouble because you won’t be able to get enough credit points. The worst case scenario is they’re going to kick you out!” Stephen doesn’t raise his voice, which Louis thought he might do. On the other hand, his voice is filled with disappointment and Louis was kind of expecting that. He wasn’t expecting for someone to call his dad because of his absence at UNI. 

“Why did they call you?” 

“They called me because they know what has happened to you and they got worried you might be having some medical issues and that you might need some more time off. I don’t know anything about any medical issues and is that the question you really want to ask? If I were you, I’d start explaining. You’re still my son and I want to make sure you’re doing what you’re meant to do. And what is that?” 

“Graduating from univ…” 

“Yes, graduating from university. As long as you’re still living at home, you’re not going to neglect your studying. Now, tell me where the hell you have been because you haven’t been on any lectures.” 

 

Stephen leans his hands against the table. He waits for Louis to say something and his eyes seem to drill holes into Louis’ body. Louis bends his head down, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out as quietly as he can. He has been anxious his dad is going to find out about his adventures in some way. Or at least find out he hasn’t been to school for weeks. But now when he has to explain himself to his dad, his head echoes with emptiness. He knows he’s bad at lying, especially when he’d need to lie to someone’s face. 

“I… I’ve been with Jeremy,” Louis breathes out. His words make Stephen slump down on his chair. 

“You have to understand that your boyfriend isn’t more important than your studies.” 

“I know that. It’s just that I haven’t really felt any connection with him lately and I want to get to know him again. And he knew me before the accident so maybe I want him to introduce myself to me again.” 

Louis swallows hard, like his mouth would be filled with stones. His dad stares at him for a while, before he sighs and leans his head against his hands. 

 

“I’m sorry I got so upset with you,” he says, looking at Louis with apologetic eyes. Louis has never been good at lying, but apparently he has gained that ability after his accident. He’s not proud of it, to say the least. He hates lying and now when he has convinced his dad with total bullshit, he feels even worse. 

“It’s okay, dad.” 

“I want you to succeed in life and if you’d make a little effort, you could still catch everyone else at your courses. Please tell me you’ll try, Louis. I know it’s hard, but getting back to your normal life will help in your recovery. You remember when the doctor told you that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Louis reaches his hand out to his dad, who takes it between his palms. 

“Promise me you’ll make the effort. I’m sure Jeremy will help you too, but you have to be the one doing all the work,” Stephen tries to convince Louis through his eyes. Louis nods and keeps holding his dad’s hand. They sit like that for a moment longer, like Louis could make some unbreakable bond of trust with his dad. 

 

“I’ll make dinner,” Stephen lets go of Louis’ hand and stands up. He goes to the fridge and starts to dig through it to find ingredients for whatever meal he’s about to make. 

“I’ll go study,” Louis says, trying to muster up a convincing half smile. Stephen gives Louis a quick look over his shoulder; a smile which tells Louis how proud he is of Louis. If he’d know how much Louis has lied to him in the past month, Stephen’s smile would turn into a deep frown. 

Louis leaves the kitchen and collects his backpack from the hallway. He goes into his room and takes out a book about the history of architecture. He opens it and lays on his bed. He starts to read it, like he’d really want to study about aqueducts and high ceilings. The words start to blend in together and his eyes feel extremely heavy. He doesn’t hear his dad in the kitchen, just a steady hum of sleep washing over him. 

Louis wakes from his sleep when he hears his dad talking with someone. Louis doesn’t, at first, even realise he fell asleep until he sees the clock on his bedside table. A good hour and a half passed by and he was supposed to study. His head is still in a dream world, making the day feel extremely long. 

 

“Louis, dinner!” his dad yells happily. 

“Coming!” Louis croaks out, clearing his throat with a silent cough. He tries to smooth his hair by combing through it with his fingers. He wishes he doesn’t look too tired, but if he does, maybe he’ll come up with another lie. He’s apparently getting very good at it. He feels his skin crawl with hate for himself and his useless talent. 

“I invited Jeremy too,” Stephen says when Louis steps into the kitchen. Jeremy turns towards Louis and smiles brightly. Louis stares at him, like he’s seeing a ghost. Jeremy walks over to him and pecks him on the cheek just because he knows Stephen is looking at the couple. Louis smiles weakly. His stomach feels uneasy; he knows this evening isn’t going to end well. 

“Come and sit down,” Stephen tells them and points at the chairs around the table with his hand. Jeremy thanks quietly, sitting down and looking at Louis expectantly. Louis feels his cheeks starting to cramp because of his forced smile. His head feels woozy and he’s not hungry at all. He fills his plate carefully, watching how Jeremy keeps on piling up food onto his. 

“Now that I have both of you around this table, I want to say something,” Stephen says. Louis looks at his dad, but quickly turns his eyes towards his food. This can’t be happening…

“I had a serious talk with Louis about his studies earlier and he told me that he has been spending a lot of time with you, Jeremy, rather than at his lectures. Even though I like you very much, Jeremy, I hope you’ll give Louis some peace to study too. I’m asking you to be there for Louis, but also encourage him to be at his lectures because it’s very important he starts to live his normal life again. And even though I know you’re young and can’t get enough of each other, you still have to think about your future, okay?” Stephen talks with a smile, but meaning every word. 

When he comes to the point where he brings up Louis and Jeremy spending a lot of time together, Louis lifts his sight from his plate to Jeremy. He knows he has been caught. Jeremy stares at Louis with hurt in his eyes. He doesn’t blink or nod or make any sounds. He sits opposite from Louis like a statue, knowing he has been used as a cover up for some lie. When Stephen finishes, Jeremy opens his mouth and lets out a shuddering breath. Louis looks away. He knew it would happen at some point, but he didn’t expect this to happen in front of his dad and by his dad. 

“I won’t keep Louis from his studies anymore,” Jeremy says. Louis looks back at his boyfriend under his brow and sees how all the colour from Jeremy’s cheeks has escaped. He’s pale as a sheet and he’s clenching his teeth together. He looks away from Louis and starts to eat his food. Though he doesn’t look like he’s too hungry anymore. He’s picking at the vegetables around his plate, once in a while putting one in his mouth and chewing it slowly like he could throw it up as soon as it hits the back of his throat. 

“Okay, great! Well, now that we’ve finished the serious part, let’s eat!” Stephen smiles and starts to eat almost like the food could be the best he’s ever made. Maybe it is, Louis wouldn’t know that. He has lost his appetite completely and is ready to leave the table as soon as possible. But he’s not that ready to confront Jeremy, who is already contemplating the hateful things he might say to Louis. His anger is palpable and Louis wouldn’t want to be the one who has to endure it. But there’s not much he could do. He has to take it as it’s all his fault. He knew he’s not a good liar and getting caught red handed makes it even worse. 

He just wishes it’ll all end quickly and painlessly. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis never liked smoking. He did smoke before the accident, but never really needed a cigarette or felt like he wants to do it. It was just a habit which was encouraged by his friends. He liked to do it when he was out partying or with people who always smoke. But he never liked it. 

He taps the cigarette between his forefinger and middle finger with his thumb, shaking the ash from the tip. It falls onto the asphalt and blows away with the wind. He watches the burning end of the cigarette. The red glows faintly, making sure the cigarette stays alive. Louis inhales the smoke into his lungs and looks up. The building on the other side of the street seems like a prison. A huge wall which is never going to let Louis inside or know what he has to say. He sees the windows. They’re empty, only reflecting the afternoon light from the sky. 

 

“ **Where are you???** ” Jeremy’s text makes Louis’ phone buzz in his pocket. He stares at the words on the screen, but he doesn’t open the text. He just wants to be. He doesn’t want to get into another fight with Jeremy. 

He knew what he was in for. He knew getting caught would mean something bad. But he didn’t know that it meant for him to be monitored all the time. He feels like Jeremy wants to know what he’s doing every second of every day and if Louis doesn’t answer him, then he’ll call Louis’ dad. He has done it a few times now and every time Louis has to come up with some sort of an explanation where he has been if he hasn’t been at a lecture or with Jeremy. 

“ **Are you using me as part of your lies again?** ” Louis reads the words, knowing he has hurt Jeremy more than he could’ve ever imagined. His texts make Louis’ body feel heavy and his mind go dark. It doesn’t matter where he’s sitting or if he’s trying to muster up some courage to go talk with Harry. It doesn’t matter at all. He has hurt the people who have cared for him since the accident and this is the way Louis pays back. 

He has always hated lying. And now he feels like he can’t survive a day without even a little lie. He feels like he has to cover up everything he does. Even going towards the part of the city, where Harry lives, means he has to lie. He just can’t be honest about his whereabouts because then he’d need to explain why he’s always going back to the same place. 

“ **Why can’t you answer me?!** ” Louis stuffs his phone into the pocket of his jacket. He takes a drag from the cigarette and looks at the building, which seems to grow darker every time Louis looks at it. The building meant something so different to him back when he was living in that weird state of living and dying. This place was his home. Now it’s threatening and makes Louis feel sad. He looks at the building, knowing Harry lives in there and he remembers saying his last goodbyes like it was just yesterday. 

Its good Harry can’t remember it. Louis sees the building and can’t stop thinking about Jeremy. How he has hurt Jeremy and all the lies he has told to just come here and stare at those brick walls which will not let him inside. 

Louis doesn’t care about the evening turning colder. He cups his hands over his mouth and puffs warm air into them. He rubs his palms together and tries to warm his freezing fingers. Nothing happens though. Even his body is turning against him. It stays as cold as his heart, which doesn’t care about anything. 

Louis knows he’s on the brink of actually losing his mind. He just can’t stop. He can’t stop thinking about Harry and his voice and the times they had together. He can’t stop missing those moments they had together and now when he’s supposed to go back to his “normal” life, there is no normality. Everything has been turned upside down and he doesn’t know where his craziness begins and where his normal self ends. Everything’s up in the air and he can’t grasp onto anything. 

 

Harry steps outside. He doesn’t hide away when he blatantly stares at Louis. He sits on the steps of his building and keeps on looking at Louis. His face stays neutral. He has styled his hair into a beautiful, fluffy quiff and his black clothes make his skin look like milk. Louis can’t turn his eyes away form that beautiful person. He takes a drag from his cigarette. A long, cancer filled inhalation makes his eyes water, but Harry stays clear in his line of vision. Louis stubs the cigarette onto the pavement and clasps his hands together tightly. 

He sees Harry standing up and his mouth opening. He breathes in steady rhythms and the warm air comes out in small grey clouds from his mouth. He starts his way towards Louis, slowly walking like a runway model. The neutral expression on his face cracks into a mix of happiness and shock. His legs start to move faster and they make Louis rise to his feet. The last few steps, Harry runs to Louis. He buries his face to Louis’ neck and Louis can hear gentle sobs from Harry’s body. He’s saying something, but his voice is muffled by Louis’ skin. Louis rubs his hands up and down Harry’s back and they find their way under Harry’s leather jacket. They hold Harry close and Harry holds Louis close. In this world Louis is safe and he can forget the lies and the feeling of being tracked all the time. 

The image pops when that unknown guy steps out from a cab, which pulls over in front of Harry’s building. Harry starts to smile widely when he sees the man, stands up and rushes to give him a hug. Louis turns his eyes away from them. He can’t watch Harry being so close with someone. Maybe it’s because Louis needs his closure or because he’s extremely jealous. It has to be the latter. He can’t watch the two because he can’t stop imagining himself in place of that stranger. Louis wants to be the one who makes Harry smile like that. He wants to be the one kissing Harry’s lips and hugging him so tight that Harry has to start laughing, because he can’t breathe. 

Louis stands up and leaves. A second knife plunges into his chest and he can’t take the pain anymore. 

 

\- - 

 

“Louis?” 

“I’m finally studying, dad, you should be happy,” Louis says flatly. He has been staring at the same spot on his text book for the last hour. He can’t get a grip of anything and studying is the last thing on his mind. 

“It’s not about that,” his dad says. He sounds warm, like the sunny spring day which has enveloped the two in the kitchen. The sun shines in from the window and makes everything orange. Stephen sits opposite from Louis, reading some book Louis is too tired to know about. He hasn’t been sleeping well for a few days and the lack of sleep is finally catching up to him. His head aches and his eyes feel like his eyelids would be carrying tons of stones. 

If Louis closes his eyes, he can only see Harry hugging that other man. And at same moment Louis’ skin crawls with memories from the nights he slept in Harry’s bed and the times he and Harry got closer. It’s an odd feeling; those memories. They feel so vivid and at the same time Louis knows that those moments are long gone. He might be the only one who even knows about those memories which makes it all even more terrifying. He has no one to share those times with. Almost like none of it ever happened. 

“I can tell you have something on your mind,” Stephen says, staring at Louis’ study book. He has been checking the time to see how long that same page has been open. After an hour he didn’t see any point in checking the time anymore. 

 

Louis gives his dad a look under his brow and his eyes feel like they might fall off: “I have everything on my mind,” Louis says and closes his eyes for just a moment. It makes his head feel woozy and like everything would be spinning around him. He has to open his eyes to only see that they can’t focus on anything for a moment. 

“You do know that you can tell me anything if you ever want to, right?” 

“I know, dad,” Louis nods, moving his sight back to the book and the same spot on the same page. 

“Is it about Jeremy?” 

Louis sighs. He wouldn’t want to talk about it, but his dad can read him like an open book. Would it even make any difference anymore if he did tell his dad about his problems? Would it matter if Louis would tell his dad about his time with Harry? Would it all matter? 

 

“We aren’t really seeing eye to eye on some things,” Louis goes around the real topic. His dad doesn’t say anything, waiting for Louis to continue. 

“I lied about spending my time with him, dad.” 

Louis can’t face Stephen. He knows he should just confront his dad about his lying, but he’s too afraid to do it. When Stephen doesn’t say anything, it forces Louis to give his dad a glance. He feels like the words didn’t even leave his mouth, until he sees his dad. He’s closing the book in his hands slowly, making sure he knows where he was at. He places it on the table and takes off his reading glasses. Slowly he looks Louis’ way and there’s no judgement in his eyes. 

“So you haven’t been with Jeremy when you were meant to be at your lectures?” 

Louis shakes his head, pursing his lips together into a tight line. He’s embarrassed to admit his lying to his dad. He knows he’s hurting Stephen, but he knows this is the right thing to do. Even though it’s happening a bit late. 

“I guess he didn’t know you were lying about you spending time together when I brought it up on that dinner a couple of weeks back?” 

Another shake of Louis’ head. Louis brings his hands to his face, covering his eyes. The half-darkness feels good in the bright spring sun. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you, dad,” Louis says remorsefully. The words make his mind feel at ease. Maybe he can stop lying now. 

 

“Why did you do it?” Stephen asks, tilting his head. His voice is gentle and he’s not judging Louis. Maybe he knows Louis is being judged by someone else already. 

“Do you have someone else?” 

“What! No! No way!” 

“That makes it sound like you do,” Stephen says after Louis’ fierce denial. Louis stares at his dad, his mouth open like he’d say something more. Who is he fooling? Of course he has someone else even though that person doesn’t even know their history together. 

“Who is he?” Louis doesn’t know if he should answer or not. If he should just say that he’s not going to talk about it. But the urge to talk with someone about Harry is too strong. 

“It’s uhhh… Someone from another time,” Louis puts it together and realises how ridiculous he sounds. From another time? Like Louis would be a time traveller. Stephen raises his brows and with that movement he’s demanding to know more. 

 

“It’s hard to explain and maybe I’ll tell you about it some other time. But he’s just this person who was very important to me and now I don’t know what to do and Jeremy is mad at me all the time and I can’t focus on studying and to be quite frank, I don’t even know if I want to study architecture anymore. This is me now, I’m not the same person I was before the accident.”

“I’ve realised a lot of things since then and one thing is that I’m forced to live this life, which doesn’t seem like mine. Like I’d be stealing someone else’s place in this family and I don’t know who that person was. I just came here and try to be this other person, but it’s getting harder and harder every day.” 

Louis takes a deep breath, looking into his dad’s eyes. His mouth feels dry and he’s almost proud of how honest he was. 

“Does that make sense?” Louis asks, when his dad is processing everything Louis told him. 

“Of course it makes sense…” He says quietly, trying to find better words. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be someone else for me. If you feel like you’ve changed, I want to get to know you. You don’t have to hide yourself from me and make yourself to be someone else. That’s not life. You’re not obliged to be the same Louis as you were before the accident. I know that you’ve changed, you’ve calmed down. I just want to know what you’re thinking if you want to share that. I just want to know that you’re safe, okay?” Stephen reaches his hand out towards Louis and Louis takes it into his. Stephen squeezes it lightly, smiling gently. 

 

“I know you’ll do clever choices and you know how to solve problems. But if you need help with anything, maybe just someone to listen or someone to give their opinion, I’m here. You’re my son and you’re already an adult. You’ll make the final decision and I know you are capable of doing the right choices.” 

Louis smiles at that. 

“I don’t know if you want my opinion or not, but I think you should talk with Jeremy. He might not know how you’re feeling. He might still be hoping for something to happen when you’ve already moved on.” 

Stephen lets go of Louis’ hand and goes back to reading his book. Like this conversation would be the most normal thing to happen even though Louis feels like he has gone over a hundred kilometre wall which is made out of slippery stone. He stares at his book for a moment longer, before he can’t take it anymore. 

“I’m going to bed,” Louis says and his eyes drift to the clock on the wall. 6.30. Wow, he’s turning into a grandpa. Stephen hums and keeps on reading. He’s clearly too busy finding out what happens next to those characters because he doesn’t spare another look towards Louis.

 

“Though one thing before you go,” Stephen stops Louis with his words. 

“I forgive you for lying to me,” he says and smiles, going back to his book. Louis smiles and drags himself into his room. He slumps onto his bed and the book from his hands falls onto the floor with a silent thud. He takes a few breaths in before lying down and closing his eyes. 

The first thing he sees is Harry. He can see Harry hugging that other guy, but then he lets go and runs to Louis. Maybe Louis can live with this dream. Especially if it’s everything he’s going to get. 

 

\- -

 

Louis can’t sleep. He knew it even before he went to bed three hours ago. He called Jeremy to maybe ask him to come meet Louis. Have dinner and talk. Stephen even said he’d go somewhere else to give Louis and Jeremy peace. The problem is that Jeremy didn’t answer. 

After calling Jeremy tens of times and sending him messages, Jeremy finally answered. It wasn’t pretty. He let it all out. Everything that was on his mind was blasted through texts, which made Louis feel like he’s the worst boyfriend in the world. Well, maybe he is. If he wouldn’t be stalking other guys, or in this situation, this one guy, everything’d be fine. Jeremy would trust Louis and maybe even Louis could be happy. But he has to think about that other guy, go to his building and spend his time lying. 

And the award for the worst boyfriend goes to… Louis Tomlinson! That bastard who can’t stop thinking about someone else when kissing his boyfriend. 

Louis ate the romantic dinner he had prepared with his dad who complimented Louis’ efforts and the food. Louis didn’t really expect to hear those compliments from his dad, but at least someone liked the fish he had fried. 

 

Louis can’t stop thinking about Jeremy. At least he’s not thinking about Harry, even though images of him are creeping in. Louis pushes them away and reads Jeremy’s texts again. 

“ **Why can’t you be honest with me? Why can’t you just tell me you have cheated me with someone? Why are you such a dick?** ” 

“I haven’t cheated on you and if you’d just come over, I’d explain everything to you.”

“ **No, I’m not putting any effort into this relationship anymore if you’re not serious with me.** ”

Louis reads Jeremy’s last texts over and over again, wondering what he means with being serious. Of course he was serious. But maybe he wasn’t as serious as Jeremy would like. And what does he want? Louis to get down on one knee and start a family? Give Jeremy the moon and the universe? Louis never signed up for this, for any of this. He never wanted to get into a car accident. He never wanted to live part of his life as an angel and meet someone else. He never wanted to wake up and be met with Jeremy and pretend he loves Jeremy. He wishes everything would be much simpler, not like a ball of wool which seems like it doesn’t have a start or an end. Louis is there somewhere, in the middle of that mess and he can’t find a way out. It frustrates him. 

 

His leg starts to ache. He feels the ghost pains, which have bothered him more lately. After seeing Harry more often, the pains have become more frequent and nothing seems to work to get rid of them. Now it’s even harder to fall asleep. Louis shakes his leg, trying to relax it and ease the stings in his muscles. 

Louis sits up and massages his thigh with his hands. The air stands still and feels suffocating. His skin breaks with a cold sweat and his mouth gets dry. His room feels too dark; all the corners get filled with creatures that don’t exist. He puts on the light on his nightstand to only see that he’s alone in his room. He knows he needs water and something to make himself fall asleep. If he doesn’t take a pill, he’ll not sleep at all. 

 

He walks as slowly as he can with his limp. He’ll never get rid of it and even when he’d want to forget everything that has to do with the accident, his limp won’t allow it. He can’t deny the trauma he went through and his time between life and death. Maybe it was only a dream, but when he walks, he can’t stop thinking it was all true. 

He puts on the light above the stove in the kitchen and takes a glass from the cabinet. He waits for the water to get cool from the tap and fills the glass with the bubbly water. He drinks it and feels refreshed already. He takes the sleeping pill and finishes a second glass of water. He leans his hip against the counter, tapping the surface with his fingers. His thoughts move from Jeremy and being a terrible boyfriend to Harry. 

He remembers a night, when he had listened to Harry coming up with new words for a song he made. Louis was reading his poems and marking the ones he liked the most. Harry watched over Louis’ shoulder what he had drawn onto the sheets of paper and smiled when he saw little stars on the sides of the papers. He kept on singing and starting again over and over, when he saw one of the poems Louis had marked with a small star. It was the smallest star, but Harry still saw it. 

Those eyes that spoke to me / It was through darkness / That hand that held mine / It was through hope / That voice which told me to be stronger / Spoke through a grey cloud / That smile which reminded me of someone / made me smile / And he told me to believe / And made the sun shine.

Harry started to sing those lines, coming up with other lyrics to fill some of the gaps. Louis didn’t turn around, but listened to Harry’s voice and tried to keep his smile under wraps. Louis bowed his head further down and he heard Harry chuckling through his singing. 

“He told cheeky jokes and took me to crappy restaurants,” Harry finished the song and made Louis laugh out loud and swat his leg with one of the papers. Louis shook his head, but only hoped he could stay in that moment forever. 

It was back then. When everything was good. Before the time Harry drove him away. Before any decisions and goodbyes. Before that last night which Louis can’t forget even if he’d want to. 

 

“Are you happy, Louis?” He hears behind him. A clear voice, which he thought he’d never hear again. He twists around, seeing his mum sitting by the table. She smiles when she sees Louis’ face. She looks calm. She holds her hands on her lap and she has crossed her leg over the other. She tilts her head when Louis doesn’t answer. He looks at her, thinking she’s going to disappear. That she’s only a product of his imagination. That he’s too tired and his brain is making him see things. 

“Sit with me, please,” she says quietly and becomes even more real. Louis can feel his hands shaking, but the pain in his leg subsides. He takes a step forward and when Donna doesn’t disappear, he bursts into tears. He rushes to her side and hugs her. He feels her hands wrapping around him, stroking his back calmingly. She sits him on the chair next to hers and keeps on holding him until Louis has let the tears dry. 

“You usually sleep so peacefully,” Donna says and keeps Louis’ hand in hers, even though she leans back. She looks concerned, like she’d be here and would’ve woken up to see her son up. 

“There’s just a lot going on,” Louis brings himself to say, but he sounds choked. Like there wouldn’t be enough air for him to breathe. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Louis shakes his head, but opens his mouth: “I don’t know what I should say…” 

“Even telling just one thing to a person, who you know will listen, helps,” she says and pushes Louis’ hair from his forehead back. It feels sticky against his skin, but her touch is light and makes his heart take steadier beats. 

 

“Mum?” She smiles when she hears Louis calling her that. 

“Do you come here often?” 

“Every night,” she sounds like a dream. Her voice is feather light and her presence calms Louis’ mind. Everything that bothers him just floats away and don’t matter at this time. They’re just things he has to deal with when the time needs them to be dealt with. 

“Why haven’t you moved on?” 

“Where would I go when this is my home? I have you and your dad here and it’s all I need.”

“Louis?” Her smile turns sadder. 

“Please don’t let it all go to waste,” she says and the sad look in his eyes makes him frown. 

“What?” 

“Don’t let your time with Harry go to waste. He’ll remember you, you just have to remind him of your time together,” a light shines through her eyes and she smiles again. 

“You think so?” 

“I know so. A mother always knows when her child has found something meaningful,” she lifts her hand to Louis’ cheek and brushes it with her fingertips. 

 

“Go to sleep,” she tells him, letting go of him. She sits back against her chair and Louis can hear her voice in his head, reassuring him he’s not going to sleep restlessly. 

“Mum, do you ever miss back? Don’t you ever get lonely?” Louis asks, like he’d be running out of time. Donna smiles and looks down. She thinks for a moment and when she looks back up, her presence makes the room feel peaceful around them. 

“I miss you and your dad, but I don’t miss my life. I was meant to go and I knew my time was up. Yours wasn’t. That’s why you were able to come back. The only thing I do regret is that I hurt you, but I don’t regret my decisions. It was meant to happen and now I’m at peace.” 

Louis thinks of something to say, but can’t find any words from his mind. 

“Now, go to bed and tomorrow you’ll speak with Harry. Even when you’d be scared, go talk with him. Don’t give up now. Can you promise me that?” Louis nods. Donna smiles again, a little brighter than before. There’s no grey cloud around her and Louis really feels like she’s sitting next to him. She seems real even though Louis knows this can’t be real. She leans forward and kisses his forehead. 

“Now go, you want to be well rested tomorrow,” she chuckles and for some reason Louis chuckles too. He doesn’t feel like laughing or even smiling, but the sound bubbles inside of him and escapes through his lips. Louis stands up and walks slowly. He wouldn’t want to leave, he has so much more to say. He has so much more to talk with his mum and he knows he might never get another chance. When he turns around, his mum is already gently shooing him to go to sleep. She moves her lips, mouthing for him to go to bed. Louis looks at her for a moment, trying to come up with another question which could make the moment a bit longer. But that doesn’t happen. The only thing that comes to his mind isn’t going to make the moment last or keep her here. But Louis feels like he needs to say it. 

“I love you, mum.” 

“I love you too, Louis,” she says and swallows thickly. 

“Now go,” she’s holding back tears and her voice sounds breathless. Louis turns around and starts his way to his room when he remembers one more thing he wants to say to her. 

 

“I don’t regret…” he sees the chair empty. He knows she’s still around, but she has already left him standing there alone. 

“Our time together,” Louis finishes in a whisper. He sighs and goes to his room. He closes the door and goes under the duvet. He switches off the lamp and closes his eyes. He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but as soon as his eyes close, the relaxing feeling of falling asleep washes over him. His leg doesn’t hurt and his muscles relax in the warmth of his duvet. He breathes calmly, knowing his mum is in the room with him. She’ll make sure he’s going to sleep soundly and make him forget his troubles in his dreams. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis stands on the hallway to the lecture hall. It has just started, he can hear the professor introducing the subject to the students and putting the name list round from student to student. He holds the strap of his backpack tightly in his hand and his mind is saying he has to go in there. It’s yelling for him to go to his lecture and finally do what is right. 

His legs decide otherwise. They run out of the building and the pain in his left leg becomes unbearable. Louis stops right as he steps outside. He leans his hands to his knees and catches his breath like he has escaped the ending of the world. He sees other students staring at him and one even comes closer to him to make sure everything’s fine. He stands up straight, holding his hand up, smiling tightly. He walks away, limping out from the campus. He doesn’t look back even when his mind reminds him that he’s failing yet another course. 

He knows where he’s going. This morning, when he woke up, he decided what he’s going to do today. He’s going to wait for Harry to come home and when he sees Harry, he’s going to go talk with Harry. He’s going to apologize for stalking Harry and explain why he has been doing it. He can only hope Harry will understand him and if he doesn’t, then Louis will make him understand. His mind is a mess and he has no idea what he’s going to tell Harry, but today has to be the day when he’s going to talk with Harry. He promised his mum. 

 

The way to Harry’s seems a lot longer than before. Louis’ feet start aching, as if he’s not allowed to go any further. They hurt like he would’ve ran a marathon with poor shoes. He has to stop for a moment, only to feel the pain get worse. Louis keeps on walking, more slowly this time. He can see the building coming to his view. The streets are busy with people who are on their lunch breaks. The sun peeks behind the clouds even though the air is crisp. Louis is mad at himself for not preparing for today at all. He only has his school books with him. He really did think he’d go to his lecture and finally start studying again. But he should’ve known better. 

He made a promise to his mum last night and he should’ve kept his promise from the get go. Even the image of his mum makes his insides ache. He hadn’t even noticed how much he misses his mum all the time. He’s already forgetting what it was like having her around, how she always pushed him to do the things he was scared to do. Last night, when Louis saw his mum, it felt like she was actually there. Encouraging Louis to do what he has wanted to do for the past few weeks. Maybe talking with her was easier in some other way too. She knows the truth and how Louis was around Harry. Maybe she knows more than Louis thought. 

Louis has to push his way forward on the crowded street. The stress of doing what he was meant to do weeks back makes his leg hurt. But he keeps on going because he knows he can’t come up with excuses which will only hold him back. 

 

The bright rays of sunshine hit someone on the same spot where Louis has been for so many times. Louis can feel his legs slowing down, almost stopping. 

Harry stands there, his head tilted a bit backwards to stare at his own apartment block. He has his hands stuffed to the pockets of his jacket and his mouth has turned into a small pout. He stands out from the busy people around him with his calm presence. He doesn’t care if someone bumps into him, only smiles at them and then gets back to staring at the building. 

Louis can’t turn back now. He knows this has to happen even though he thought he has a bit more time. He doesn’t know why he’d need time; maybe to come up with something to say or a way to calm himself down. He can feel his heart beating so fast that it might just leave his body and leave a fiery trace after. His hands are sweating and his head feels odd. Like his scull would be too small for his thoughts. Even though his body is having some sort of a panic attack, he keeps on walking, very slowly, but still walking. 

He stops next to Harry and stares at him. He didn’t remember how tall Harry actually was until now, when he’s almost a head taller than Louis. He’s still staring at the building even though Louis feels like he has seen Louis already. Maybe this is the time Louis has to come up with something to say. Should he start with just a hello or a simple hi or maybe hey? Is hey too casual? Should he introduce himself? If he does introduce himself, should Louis shake Harry’s hand? Maybe Louis should try to make Harry notice him? Say excuse me or something? Maybe he should just tap his shoulder and… 

 

“Hi,” Harry says, his eyes drifting from the building to Louis. He eyes Louis from the corner of his eyes for a moment, before he goes back to looking at the brick building. Louis thinks he has lost his tongue. 

“Hey,” Louis manages to say with a voice, which shakes too much. And he went the casual route even though he shouldn’t have. Harry smiles and gives Louis a quick glance. 

“I’ve seen you here before,” Harry states calmly, like it’d be a thing normal people do. They get stalked and then they confront their follower. 

“You’ve been standing on this very same spot a few times and I’m trying to decide what you’re here to see and what brings you back,” Harry turns towards Louis completely. He has a sweet smile on his lips and his eyes look tired. He must be working a lot lately, gigs and appearances. The darker shade under his eyes tell Louis he is in a serious need of a good night’s sleep. 

“See, over there,” Harry points his hand towards the building, towards his windows. 

“Now that I’ve been standing here for a while, I’ve noticed this is the best place to see the windows of my apartment, am I right?” Harry asks, dropping his hand to his side. Louis nods slowly, looking towards the windows. He has no idea what he should tell Harry. Maybe he should just run away. This is not going to turn out well and Louis doesn’t want Harry to hate him. 

But now, when Louis doesn’t know what to say, he can’t protect himself. Harry can tell Louis off with just a few, well thought words and Louis wouldn’t even flinch because in a way he was expecting it. He can’t even face Harry like a normal person; he has to stalk Harry and then stay quiet and open and close his mouth like a dying fish. 

 

“First I didn’t know where I had seen you before, when I first saw you here. But then I realised you’ve been to a few of my and Niall’s gigs, haven’t you?” 

Louis feels super awkward. He just wishes Harry would say all the things he wants to say already so they can both move on. Though Louis doesn’t know what he should do next if he doesn’t have Harry in his life. He has been imagining this moment with Harry for so many times and now when he finally has the chance, he can’t even greet Harry properly. 

“I appreciate you being a fan and everything. But I’m not going to lie when I say I’m creeped out by you and the way you stalk me. I don’t even know how you’ve found out where I live. People don’t usually find me here. And you stand here almost every day and evening and stare directly at my windows. So I’m asking you to stop. Please, I appreciate you for being a fan but enough is enough. Please, stop. I’m asking you to stop.”

 

Louis feels like a small insect which is slowly being crushed. Harry doesn’t stop looking straight into Louis’ eyes and the serious tone in his voice makes him sound almost angry. Mainly annoyed. But still on the lines of being only annoyed or very angry. He needs Louis to say something, preferably admit what he has been doing and tell Harry that he’s going to stop and go back to his own life. Louis has to stick up for himself and he knows that. He just doesn’t know what he should say. 

He has waited for this for so long and now when he’s looking into Harry’s eyes, he only wants to kiss him. Louis would want to laugh, but he knows it’s not very appropriate. Maybe Harry even has the secret service watching them, but of course Louis wouldn’t know who those people are. Louis has just been waiting for so long that he’d want to hug Harry with a rib crushing embrace. 

He never thought what it’d be like when they meet for the first time when Louis is back in the books of the living. He never thought that day would come and now when it’s here, he doesn’t know what he should do with his body. His skin is hot, like a high temperature would be rising and burning him alive. He can feel his heart beating very erratically, but at the same time it feels very calm. 

He sees Harry in a new way; he never saw the soft skin of his lips the same way as now or the light blush on his cheeks. Louis never even realized how chocolatey brown his hair is, almost like it’d be an endless stream of melted milk chocolate. Louis’ mouth waters and he has to make an effort to calm himself down. His mind starts to co-operate with him and for the first time he feels like he’s ready to say something. 

 

Harry already turns away when Louis’ hand reaches out to him and touches his hand. His fingers graciously stroke Harry’s palm and it sends shocks through Louis. Harry’s shoulders tense up and his feet stop. He faces Louis slowly, his eyes wide and his cheeks burning red. 

“I didn’t mean to…” Louis turns his face away, avoiding Harry’s piercing eyes. 

“I don’t mean any harm, I just need to talk to you,” Louis breaths in deeply, before he directs his words to Harry’s boots. He’s too afraid. Almost like he’d be telling Harry he’s an angel once again. Maybe he has to and the thought about it crosses Louis’ mind for the first time. How didn’t he think about this before, why didn’t he come up with something sane to say? 

He just has to do this. Rip the bandage off. Tell the truth. Get hurt. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Harry shakes his head, turning away once again and leaving. Louis lifts his eyes to see Harry’s back. 

“No, nope, no, Harry, wait!” Louis runs after him, catching Harry on the steps to his building. Louis takes a firm hold of Harry’s hand, not letting go or apologising. Harry faces Louis, his forehead in deep wrinkles, his brows pulled together and his eyes confused. Louis pulls his hand back, knowing that he crossed a line. For Harry, this is him meeting a crazed fan who is stalking him. He doesn’t know anything else. 

“I’m very… flattered that you’ve seen the effort to come here again, but I really have to go,” Harry walks backwards. His chest rises and falls rapidly. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and stares at Louis in a state of fear. Is Louis really that scary? 

“I’m asking you to hear me out for just a second, please.” 

“I’m already in a rush, sorry.” 

“Harry, please.”

 

Harry shakes his head, but his eyes say much more. He’s clearly wondering, why this stranger calling him with his name, sounds familiar. He knows he hasn’t been in any contact with this stranger, but just the way he says “Harry”, is different. It’s all different. Harry’s feet are already turning away. Louis knows that he has to do something drastic, he has to make Harry listen to him. 

“Harry, for crying out loud, you’ve written a song about me and I want you to listen to me!” Louis can’t believe he said that out loud. He can feel his hands shaking. He feels a pearl of cold sweat run down the back of his neck and it feels like it can wet his shirt instantly. 

“What?” 

“Those eyes that spoke to me, it was through darkness. That hand that held mine, it was through hope. That voice which told me to be stronger… Ring any bells? That song is about me,” Louis stresses his words, knowing that he might sound a bit too angry. He needs to calm down or a vein is going to pop in his head. Harry stares at him, his eyes not blinking for a good minute. Until Louis can see his eyes watering. 

“You okay?” Harry turns away and holds his hand out towards Louis, to keep him away. He sits on the stairs, wiping his palms to his thighs. 

 

“How can you know that verse?” Harry directs his eyes carefully back to Louis under his brow. 

“Like I told you, I was with you and I read that line and you sang it to me,” Louis breathes the words out, like he’d be throwing up rocks. 

“That’s impossible because I don’t recall anything like that,” Harry shakes his head and he blinks his eyes. 

“This is why I need to talk with you,” Louis sits on the same step as Harry. He’s getting too close, he can sense it from Harry’s body language. He leans away and his long legs and arms are stiff as marble. Louis shifts a bit farther away, keeping himself small next to Harry. 

“This better be good, because I don’t know you,” Harry says. He’s not even making the effort to look at Louis anymore. Louis can feel the coldness around them better than ever before. Like he’d be dipped in icy water and made to sit on that step. He watches the people on the street, especially on the other side, where it felt much safer. Now his usual place has been taken by a group of young men in crisp suits, chatting about something and laughing while smoking. They move forward all the time, but then stop and chat for a bit more. 

 

“I don’t know where to start,” Louis admits. There’s just too much to say that he doesn’t know which would make Harry believe what Louis has to say. 

“Let’s say that you do know me… Where did we meet?” 

“At a bar, last spring. You were there alone and the bartender, Liam, was kind of keeping you company.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” Louis looks Harry’s way, but Harry is still too distraught. He’s watching the passer-by’s. He’s clearly trying to calm himself and it gives Louis anxiety. He never saw Harry like this when they both knew each other. This must be a new side to Harry too or then he hid it well. 

 

“What happened then?” 

“You got drunk because you like your whiskey and I helped you home, that’s it.” Harry doesn’t say anything to Louis. Louis can see his chest falling, but it doesn’t puff back up again. 

“You quit drinking after we met,” Louis eyes Harry from the corner of his mouth. Harry drops his chin to his chest and he looks like he wishes he’d still have his long hair. He pulls the collar of his coat up, hiding behind it. 

“Have you been here before? Inside my apartment?” 

“Yes, many times. We spent all of our time there.” 

“What did we do?” 

“I used to help you with your demo to make it more marketable. You played your guitar and I did what I was able to do. We talked a lot, nothing special really.” 

“What did we talk about?” Harry’s shoulders relax just the slightest. They drop down slowly, but his hands are still in tight fists. 

“We talked about a lot of things. How your parents pay for your place. Or at least paid. You also told me that you have a rough relationship with them because they never supported you with your choice of career.” 

 

Harry turns his legs towards Louis. He’s still not looking at Louis, but he’s clearly listening. 

“You also told me about your sister, Marie, who ran away from home when you were 16. It wasn’t until last spring when you saw each other again.” 

Harry’s eyes rise and meet Louis’. He’s trying to stay calm but looking into Harry’s terrified eyes makes Louis shift under the pressure. 

“You’re the one who talked with Liam,” Harry says in wonder, letting out a chuckle which doesn’t possess any emotion. 

“Yes. It was after my first concert when I came to see you and Niall. I went to talk with Liam because I wanted to have some connection with you before I’d meet you again. But then he told me that he has never seen me before and I put two and two together. You can’t remember me either, which makes everything even more complicated.” 

 

“Were we together?” 

“No, no, we weren’t.”

“Then why do you talk about me and you like we were?” Louis looks away. Is it that obvious? He thought he was being discreet, only telling Harry the things he knows. He didn’t know he was letting out something else too. 

“Why do you think like that?” 

“Your voice… It sounds like you’ve lost something and you can never have it back,” Harry says, confusing himself too. Louis breaths out a laugh, but closes his mouth. His leg starts to ache and he pats it gently to make the pain go away. 

 

“Why can’t I remember you if we were so close?” Louis swallows hard, knowing that this has to be the moment when he could tell Harry about his time as an angel. He also knows that it might make him sound even more ridiculous than he already is. 

“I’m not sure if I can tell you, at least not yet.” 

“Are you a hypnotist?” 

“No,” Louis smiles grimly, wishing he would be. Maybe he would explain himself better. 

 

“Okay, let’s say you do know me… Can you tell me anything else?” Harry tilts his head. His face is more relaxed, but his eyes make him look like a deer which is going to run away if it hears a loud noise. 

“Ummm… You have Polaroid pictures on the wall next to your bed. And when you got your recording deal, you saw Niall and almost got hit by a car because you were so star struck and were nervous to go talk with him.”

“You talk like you were there,” Harry chuckles. His mouth curves into an amused smile, which Louis takes as a good sign. 

“Well… I was… You just can’t remember it.” 

“Yeah, I don’t remember meeting you anywhere before any of this happened.” 

 

Louis smiles shyly. Suddenly he feels exhausted. All the energy has been sucked out of him and he’s left with an empty body, which needs a lot of rest. Talking to Harry is nice, but knowing that he can’t remember anything makes Louis sad. He knows so much and Harry doesn’t know anything. He can’t even remember the moment when he got the recording deal and how happy he was when he came out to meet Louis. 

“Do you believe me?” Louis asks. It sounds like an odd question to his ears, like he’d be uncertain about everything. Maybe even this moment isn’t real and he’s still having an inner battle about meeting and talking to Harry. 

“You do know a lot about me. All of those things did happen a few months back and I know that I haven’t told anyone about these things other than people who I can really trust. But you… You really sound like you were there… I just can’t place you…” Harry scrunches his brows together and smiles incredulously, trying to squeeze the memory of Louis from his head. It clearly doesn’t happen, because he shakes his head and starts to watch the people on the streets again. 

 

“Harry?” 

“Hmmm?” He looks back at Louis. His eyes are more open to whatever Louis might say. They’re curious, like he’d be meeting a magician for the first time in his life and the magician could read Harry’s mind. 

“I hope you won’t think I’m a stalker or anything like that. I’m just looking for a friend who could understand me like you did a few months back,” Louis forces himself to keep his eyes on Harry’s. Harry stays quiet, but starts to nod. 

“Keep trying, maybe I’ll remember something eventually,” Harry shrugs and starts to stand up. 

“Are you going?” 

“I have to, I really am in a bit of a rush.” 

“Oh, okay, well… I hope I’ll meet you again someday?” 

“Well, if I tell you to keep trying, I really do hope we’ll meet someday. Hopefully even sooner than just someday,” Harry smiles. He waves awkwardly at Louis, going inside. Louis stares at the door for a moment after Harry has gone inside, not really realising what just happened. 

 

Louis stands up and walks onto the other side of the street. He dares to look towards Harry’s windows and sees Harry’s figure standing in the living room window. He smiles and goes somewhere which is almost like a promise of wanting to know more. Louis starts to walk slowly, his feet touching the ground much lighter than before. 

Did that really just happen? Was it really that easy? He has been imagining that moment over and over again in his head for so long. Now it was almost anticlimactic that there wasn’t any dramatic feelings. Harry didn’t yell at him and there was no secret service agents running to arrest Louis for stalking. The weirdest thing is that Louis really did think he’d need to convince Harry more. He thought he’d need to know every little detail of Harry’s life to even make him listen. Of course he needs to tell Harry more, he already knows that. That is of course if they meet again. Maybe Harry is an amazing actor who just played Louis. Though Louis hopes that’s not the case. But it seemed like deep down, Harry does know Louis. That he does remember on some level, but he’s too afraid to admit it, because now Louis is really alive. Some boundary has been broken and there’s nothing to separate them. 

There’s still the mystery of the unknown guy Harry is seeing. Is Harry going to bring him along if they do meet? How can Louis be completely honest if there’s a real stranger with them? The thought of having that guy with Louis and Harry makes Louis’ insides feel heavy. He’d really just want his friend back, but the jealousy he feels towards that guy… He can’t erase it. 

Louis starts to make a mental list about all the things he could tell Harry. Or the things he has to tell Harry. He knows that he’s getting closer and closer to the real truth about himself. Maybe telling Harry about the angel thing the first time around was like a rehearsal. Now it’s show time. He just has to make himself sound serious and not like he’s afraid of confronting Harry and the truth. Harry might not even believe him, but Louis is going to try. This is his promise to himself. 

 

The day starts to turn into darkness. Louis didn’t even realise how dark it is until he sees that the only sources of light are the streetlights. He checks his phone to only see tens of messages from Jeremy. 

Jeremy. Louis totally forgot him. He has been swimming in those green eyes way too long and too deep. He has to face the reality which is his boyfriend. His real boyfriend who is already on the edge about their relationship. 

Apparently they were meant to see each other tonight. At least it sounds like it from Jeremy’s messages. Louis can’t even remember if he has had any plans with Jeremy for a long time. Everything, which involves Jeremy, reminds Louis of the car accident and how he has lost a part of himself. 

They must’ve agreed to meet up today last night when they were fighting. Last night Louis was feeling anxious about it. Now? 

Louis knows he has given up. He had given up already before he woke up from his coma. It’s oddly satisfying to admit it, Louis thinks. He knows that he hasn’t been himself, but he has never let himself think that way. He has been trying to live the same life as before even though he knew all along it’s not going to happen. He can’t turn back the time and make everything like it was before. And now, Louis wouldn’t even want to do that. He’d loose too much if he’d be capable of doing that. 

 

When Louis opens the door, his dad is already there. 

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to calm Jeremy, but he’s so angry and upset. He’s locked himself in your room and I don’t know what to do at this point. What is going on between the two of you?” He helps Louis by taking his backpack and holding it in his hands while Louis takes off his jacket and shoes. 

“It’s a long story…” 

“Does it have something to do with you lying?” 

“Partly,” Louis sighs, looking ahead towards the door of his room. 

“I’m going to go for a walk. Just work it out, try to stay calm, okay?” 

“Yeah, dad, I will.” 

Stephen pats Louis on the shoulder and gives him a tight lipped smile. He’s out the door even before Louis can tell him to have a nice walk. 

 

“Jeremy?” Louis comes closer to his door and presses his hand on the handle. 

“Can you let me inside?” The lock clicks instantly. Louis opens the door carefully, finding Jeremy sitting on his bed. He has been crying. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are stained with tear streams. 

“Why didn’t you answer me?” He asks. Louis sits next to him, his shoulder against Jeremy’s. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“I want you to be honest when I ask you this. I don’t want to hear any explanations or anything, just a yes or a no is enough.” Louis nods, knowing what he’s going to ask. 

“I haven’t cheated on you, Jeremy, and I haven’t met anyone else.” 

“But why can’t I trust you? Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?” 

“That’s because I am!” Louis stands up and realises that he has to stay calm. Jeremy has done nothing. He has been so good to Louis, too good even, and Louis is paying him back by being quiet and not telling him anything. 

 

“I don’t understand…” 

“I’m not the same person I was before the accident. I know you’ve seen it. But that experience changed me…” Louis is trying to find words, but ends up puffing out a single syllable of a word even he doesn’t know. 

“You can tell me anything and we can work on it. We can get through this,” Jeremy pleads. Louis sighs, sitting back next to Jeremy. He places his hand on Jeremy’s thigh and gives it a light squeeze. 

“I know I’m going to sound crazy,” Louis says. He feels like he’s getting out from his own body. He sees himself sitting next to Jeremy and how he’s trying to come up with the best way to say it all to Jeremy. He can see his own mouth starting to move and he can’t understand why he’s telling about it to Jeremy. 

“When I was in a coma, something happened.” 

“Meaning?” 

“That I was actually living my normal life, but in a different way,” Louis is almost impressed by what he’s managing to come up. 

“I don’t follow…” 

“I was here, but I was with other people. Now I’ve tracked those people down and I’m trying to connect with them again,” Louis knows that he sounds completely insane. Also, he doesn’t understand why he’s talking about Harry like there’d be many people. There was only Harry. 

 

“Actually, I had one friend during that time and I talked with him today and I realised that nothing’s the same as it used to be,” he says, eyeing Jeremy’s reactions. He looks blank, but at least he’s not shooting Louis’ words down.

“So, you’re saying you met someone while you were in a coma?” 

Hearing it from Jeremy’s mouth, Louis can’t understand how silly it sounds. He was in a coma for Christ’s sake! How could that be possible! Louis starts to laugh. He laughs so much that the walls of his room start to echo. He falls onto his back and tries to calm down, but as soon as he quiets down, a new wave of laughter hits him. Like a rock in the middle of the sea. 

 

“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I just realised what that sounds like!” He laughs even louder. He can feel the mattress next to him shaking too and when Louis opens his crinkled eyes, he can see Jeremy laughing lightly too. He flops down onto his back as well, turning everything upside down. Louis’ laughter dies down and the silliness he felt is replaced by sorrow. 

“You do have someone else,” Jeremy says. He doesn’t sound angry or like he’s questioning it. It’s just the hard truth. 

“I read about coma patients. They can go through something like that, their spirit can travel even though their body would be bound into a hospital bed.” 

Louis stares at the roof and knows that he has told another lie to Jeremy. He has been cheating on Jeremy. He might not have been having sex with someone, but he’s having such a deep connection with Harry that it almost feels like he’s one with that man. 

 

“I’m not mad at you, Louis.” 

“Just disappointed,” Louis says out loud. 

“No, not even that. I’m sad that it’s over,” he says and turns his head to see Louis’ face. 

“It has been over for a while now,” Louis states, feeling like the time would be changing. For the first time he knows that he has a clean slate in front of him and he can start filling it up again. He just didn’t know it would mean he needs to get rid of Jeremy. Well, in a way he knew it. But he didn’t want to believe it. 

“I hope you’re going to be happy,” Jeremy says. He sits up and wipes away the fresh tears from his cheeks. 

“Jeremy,” Louis follows him, turning Jeremy’s face towards him. He holds his hand on Jeremy’s cheek, kissing the other. 

“I’m sorry it had to go this way,” he whispers, feeling tears rising to his eyes. 

“It just wasn’t meant to be.” 

Jeremy presses his forehead against Louis’. They stay close to each other for a moment, before Jeremy sucks in a breath harshly and lets go of Louis completely. He stands up and manages to smile. Louis watches him, confused by what Jeremy is going to do. 

 

“Louis, I really do love you. Maybe that’s why it’s almost a relief to let you go,” he lets out a chuckle. Louis stands up and hugs him tight, knowing that he couldn’t have had a better person in his life during the time he was recovering. Even though Jeremy wasn’t the one he wanted to see by his bed every morning, Jeremy was still there. He was there to hold Louis’ hand when he was in pain or he had to give walking a try. 

“Is this really it?” Louis asks, knowing that maybe he shouldn’t ask that question. It might sound like he doesn’t want to break up. Jeremy knows better though. 

“This is it. We shouldn’t waste our time on something, which isn’t going to work. And while you were in a coma, I learnt new things too. Maybe I need to revise those things again, think who I am… Make a journey within myself.” 

“What did you learn?” 

“That I don’t love you enough,” he says honestly. It makes Louis smile and it breaks all the chains, which have kept those two together. 

“I love you, but I don’t think I’ve never been in love with you,” Louis admits, which makes Jeremy nod. 

 

“I want you to introduce me to that person you talked about.” 

“Wouldn’t that be awkward?” 

“Why would it be? We are already letting go of each other and who knows, maybe I have someone by then too,” Jeremy shrugs and smiles. It reminds Louis of the beginning of their relationship. That boyish grin, which makes Jeremy look so much younger, than he actually looks like. 

“Don’t drop off the face of the earth, okay?” Louis asks, straightening Jeremy’s shirt. 

“Same goes to you, I want to hear from you from time to time.” 

Jeremy looks calm. He hasn’t looked like this in a long time and this is the first time Louis realises how straining this relationship has been for the both of them. Louis hugs him one more time, squeezing hard and lets go. Jeremy smiles and leaves, like breaking up would be the easiest task in the world. Louis stands in the doorway, watching Jeremy leave. He gives a final smile at Louis before he closes the door quietly after himself. 

When he’s gone, Louis sits on the bed. He lets out a long breath and smiles. And for the first time in months, the smile doesn’t hurt his cheeks or his insides. It feels natural, like he’d be a bird, which has been set free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can’t wait to hear your thoughts :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs for chapter 10
> 
> Friends / Francis and the Lights feat. Bon Iver  
> Sharon Van Etten / Your Love Is Killing Me  
> The Cure / Pictures of You  
> The Last Shadow Puppets / The Dream Synopsis  
> Tobias Jesso Jr. / Without You  
> Rosie Lowe / Right Thing  
> Sleeping At Last / Uneven Odds  
> RHODES / Wishes  
> Daughter / Made of Stone

Louis watches the tea in his mug go around and around when he spins the spoon along the dark liquid. The hypnotising movement makes him stare at the tea for too long and when he blinks his eyes, they sting as they’re too dry. 

“I haven’t seen Jeremy come over anymore,” Stephen points out, but it’s more like a question even if he doesn’t intent it to be one. He looks at Louis from the corner of his eye, relieved when Louis takes a breath in and straightens his back. 

“Yeah, we broke up.” Louis scrunches his brows together and takes a sip from his mug, grimacing as the tea has already gone cold. 

“What?” 

“We broke up,” Louis lifts his eyes from the tea and looks at his dad in confusion. 

“When?” 

“Like a week or two back?” Louis feels like it’s been much longer than just a couple of weeks. 

“Why didn’t I know?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis shakes his head, taking another sip of his drink. He grimaces again, setting the mug on the table and releasing it from his hand. He doesn’t know why he drank the tea again; he definitely doesn’t like cool tea. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Stephen looks concerned. Louis chuckles when he sees his dad’s face. 

“Dad, you look like you’re more upset than I am of our break up.” 

“I am! I really liked Jeremy, I got to know him quite well when you were in the hospital,” he explains and moves his eyes from Louis to the table, blinking a few times like looking back at the times he had with Jeremy. 

“I really liked him,” Stephen continues quietly, his brows in a sad line. 

“I liked him too, but it wasn’t working for us anymore,” Louis shrugs and smiles warm heartedly. He has been looking back to his time with Jeremy and now, when he has been single for the past week, he has been even more satisfied with their decision. For once he doesn’t have to think about pleasing someone else when he has so much to think about. 

He hasn’t seen Harry either. He hasn’t even gone to his apartment. He doesn’t really know why he hasn’t gone there; Harry didn’t seem too mad when they met. Not about Louis being there for so much or about Louis telling him about their past together. He seemed much more interested than Louis could’ve ever imagined, even though he doesn’t want to have high hopes for anything yet. 

Of course now Louis has realised how crazy he has been acting for the past few weeks. He’s just letting everything settle into place again, think things through and make his mind up of what he’s going to do next. If he even should go back to Harry’s. Louis does know he still wants to talk with Harry, but maybe he has to distance himself for a while. Maybe he should find himself first before he goes back to having those strong feelings and takes a trip down memory lane. He should find himself again in this afterlife kind of place and then go meet Harry with a clear mind. Yes, that sound like a plan. 

 

“Why wasn’t it working?” Stephen asks and leans his chin to his palm. He looks like a teenager, who is looking for gossip. Louis smiles and leans his arms on the table, taking a breath in and weighing what he should say. 

“We weren’t right for each other anymore.” 

“It seemed like you were very close. Maybe not lately, but I thought you were just having a hard time and you were going to solve it?” 

“It wasn’t something we were ever going to solve. Things changed after the accident. We just weren’t the same anymore.” Louis pushes the mug further away from him. The urge to drink from it is getting stronger and he knows he might throw up if he’d drink from it again. Maybe he should make more tea. 

“How did you notice it?” Stephen is really focusing on Louis. His eyes have this intense look, which makes Louis wonder what is going on. He has never talked with his dad like this. 

“Uhh, I wasn’t the same and he was. We weren’t right for each other anymore and it was quite clear in the end even though I thought I could be the same person again.” 

“Oh? How? How were you different?” Louis gasps with a smile on his face and looks down. For some reason he doesn’t feel like he’d need to hide from his dad. He should be open about his experience. 

 

“I, uhhh… I kind of met someone new,” Louis looks back up and sees his dad looking almost shocked. He opens his mouth and closes it. He tilts his head and his brows pull together; he’s clearly confused. Louis knows that face even though he hasn’t seen it too often. 

“Bu… How… Did you… When?” Stephen looks for words and settles with a question which terrifies Louis a bit. Honesty is the key here, he thinks. 

“Well…” Louis drags the word out to give himself more time. 

“While I was in a coma, something… Quite extraordinary happened and I haven’t been able to shrug it off even after I woke up,” he shrugs his other shoulder while shaking his head slowly. He knows that even he’s looking like he doesn’t believe his own words, but he smiles and accepts what has come out of his mouth. 

“What happened?” Stephen looks at Louis clearly interested to hear more. He’s fighting off the urge to look like he doesn’t believe anything Louis is saying, but he’s determined to hear what Louis experienced. He wants to know what his son went through. 

“I’mmmm… Not sure if I should tell you…” 

“I promise, I won’t judge you,” Stephen raises his hands defensively, a calm look on his face. 

“It’s just that… While I was in a coma, I didn’t know I was in a coma. I was living my life, even came here with mum,” Louis says like it’s the most normal thing in the whole world. Stephen looks at Louis, at a loss for words again. When Louis mentions Donna, his eyes bulge. 

“With mum?” Louis stares at his dad, frozen and quite frankly terrified. What is he supposed to say to that? He nods, shifting his eyes to the table. 

“You were with mum?” 

“Yeah, we… She came here every night and we spent time together before I had to wake up,” Louis swallows and watches his dad, who crumbles apart. His shoulders slump down and his arms deflate against the table. His eyes look sad and his face turns grey. 

“She was worried about you. You weren’t able to sleep well and when she was around, you slept more calmly. That’s why she came here more often than I in the end.” 

“Where were you then?” Stephen looks like he can’t believe a word Louis is saying at this point. Maybe it’s good, now Louis can be a bit more honest. It’s not like his dad is going to believe what he’s saying anyway. 

“I was with this guy, who I was helping,” Louis feels the warmth creeping up his chest to his neck and cheeks. He feels like he’s burning, but if he’d turn away from his dad now, it’d make him feel even more like a teenager in love. No. Not in love! He just has a crush on Harry. Just. A. Crush.

“And he’s the reason why you broke up with Jeremy?” Louis nods. 

 

“How can you know he’s even real?” Stephen shakes his head incredulously. He has clearly given up on believing Louis’ stories. 

“Because Jeremy took me to his concert and after that I’ve been trying to muster up my courage to talk with him.” 

“To his what? Concert?” 

Louis laughs nervously. He bites his teeth together, like it could make him stop talking. He has just taken it too far and he’s on the road of telling his dad who he’s talking about. That would make it even more incredible and Louis is certain his dad would just laugh straight to his face and leave.

“Yeah, he was this street artist and then made it… You know, maybe we shouldn’t talk about it, it’s not important…”

“Is that where you’ve been? At his place? When you haven’t been to your lectures?” Stephen asks, calmer even though he looks like he’s too tired to care if what Louis is saying is true or not.

“I haven’t really been to his place. I’ve talked with him once because he confronted me about going to his apartment block and he was a bit creeped out… I’m not even sure if I should go back there…” 

“Does he want you to go back there?” 

“I guess so…” 

 

Silence settles between Louis and his dad. Stephen is trying to comprehend what his son just told him. He holds his lips tightly together, almost in a pout and stares at the table. His brows create a line on his forehead and he seems like he’s deep in thought. 

“About your mum…”

“Hmmm?” 

“Has she been here after… Your experience?” Stephen looks back to Louis, tilting his head. Louis weighs his options. Should he tell his dad what happened that one night? Would it make any difference? She’s not going to come back to life even if Louis wouldn’t tell his dad. 

“I don’t know. Though, I do think she’s always going to be here even when we wouldn’t be able to see her,” Louis thinks this is the best thing he can come up with. He doesn’t want to give his dad hope on something that seems so otherworldly. Sometimes even Louis thinks it’s not real.

“Hmm…” Stephen hums quietly, going back to staring at the table. 

 

“Louis?” His dad breathes out and has a serious look in his eyes. When Louis looks at him, the seriousness melts away and changes to a smile. 

“Yeah?”

“You do realise that what you just told me seems a bit ridiculous,” Stephen lets out a single chuckle, his brows raising towards his hairline. 

“I know, dad,” Louis laughs quietly. He knows he must sound like a total nutcase by telling these kinds of stories.

“But if what you just told me is real, and there really is someone who makes you blush like you do when you talk about him, then maybe you should go and talk more with him. And when the time is right, maybe bring him here. I’d very much like to meet him.” 

Louis feels his eyes spreading wide and the blush on his cheeks deepens into an embarrassed shade of red. He smiles with his lips tightly together. 

“By the way, has he thanked you for helping him if he’s more successful now?” Stephen asks, straightening his back. Louis knows that the conversation is drawing to its end which can’t make Louis happier. He has been on the hot seat for long enough. This is enough crazy for one evening. 

“Well technically he can’t remember me, so no, he hasn’t thanked me,” Louis feels the warmth spreading in his chest again, this time towards his arms and fingers. 

“He can’t remember you? Pfff,” Stephen snorts. 

“What?”

“He’s crazy for not remembering you!” He smiles and stands up. 

 

“If, what you just told me is real, then I’d like to make a deal with you,” Stephen stops while he’s on the way out of the kitchen. He turns towards Louis and has that fatherly, strict look on his face again. 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“I really do hope you’d go to your lectures. And if you go there, then you can spend your evenings where ever you want. What does that sound like?” 

“Well, I already do spend my evenings where ever I want. I’m an adult, dad,” Louis points out and smiles brightly. 

“Yes, I know, but you’re still living at home and as long as you live here, I expect you to tell me where you are and I’m going to give you a time when you have to be back home the latest. But if you attend your lectures and start studying seriously again, I’m not going to be so strict about it anymore.” 

Louis looks at him a little longer, thinking about his suggestion. 

“That does sound tempting,” Louis cocks an eyebrow. 

“Think about it, okay?” 

 

“Dad?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s not necessary for me to make a deal with you… I want to go to UNI more often, attend lectures and study harder. I know I need to put more effort into my studies and I want to take it seriously again,” Louis looks at his dad. He sees the calmness and relief that spreads in Stephen’s eyes and it makes Louis smile. 

“I’m glad, Louis, I really am.” 

“But I’d still like to have the ability to spend my evenings where ever I want,” Louis suggests, enthusiasm in his voice. 

“That’s on the table already,” Stephen points out and winks. He turns his back and leaves Louis with his mug filled with cold tea. Louis grins and takes the mug to his hands. He takes a huge gulp and grimaces instantly. He groans in disgust and pushes the mug away from him once again. He stands up and starts to make fresh tea, already thinking about paying a possible visit to the person he very much would like to talk with. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis takes the bus to Harry’s. He reads a book about modern architecture he just got from the library, and thinks about the skyline he sees every day. He thinks how he would change it to bring it to this century and make it home for the people of this city. He watches the streets that pass him from the window and wonders why some of the buildings are still existing. The grey concrete buildings, which look like they’re copied from a book about the architecture of the seventies. They all look the same and have no character, whereas the older ones look like major things have happened there. In those concrete buildings the only thing that has happened is paper work. Behind those walls people have smoked endless cigarettes when they’ve thought about the buildings, which are dead boring. 

Even the newer ones start to have a bit more character, but some are too bland and have too much glass. If Louis could create the whole city again, he’d throw in some colour and parks and make it a bit more idyllic even though he wants to keep it a city and not make it look like some little village. 

The buildings start to please his eyes and he realises he should’ve pushed the stop button long ago. He hastily punches it and the bus almost immediately stops. Louis rushes out while thanking the driver and almost trips on the pavement with his hands full. He catches his breath for a moment, wishing his heart would settle into its steady beat again. He stuffs the heavy book into his backpack and leaves it hanging only from his other shoulder. He walks towards Harry’s building, checking his hair from a store window. He strokes it from his forehead to the side, making sure there’s no strands sticking up. 

Maybe Harry’s not even home, which is fine. Maybe it’d be even better. Louis doesn’t really know what he could talk with Harry if he does see him. Or what they’d do. Maybe this is not a good day at all to be here or maybe it’s just his nerves which start to kick in. He gets distracted by his thoughts and a biker who almost crashes to him. The biker bumps to his arm and his backpack swings from his shoulder. The collision pushes him forward and makes him take a few wobbly steps, which almost make him lose his balance. The biker apologises and keeps on going while Louis stops and tries to make his heart stop beating so fast. He takes his backpack and puts it on his back, looking up to see Harry’s windows. The curtain moves, but there’s no one watching or waiting. 

Louis feels disappointed. He came here in the hopes of seeing Harry, even though he doesn’t want to admit it. It was still his wish. He thought he could maybe tell Harry more about the time they spent together and try to make Harry remember. But how was he supposed to know if Harry is home or not. There’s no way he could’ve known and it was just his own naivety to think that Harry would be home. It was his own silly dream to think he’d see Harry staring at Louis longingly from his window. In Louis’ dreams maybe Harry would also remember everything and he’d be saying verses from Romeo and Juliet while leaning out from his window. 

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…” Louis mumbles to himself when he turns around and starts to walk away. How was he so stupid? Everything’s stupid and he’s the king. 

“Hey!” He hears, but keeps on walking, thinking of his own stupidity. 

“Hey! You! Wait!” A clear sound of someone running after him makes Louis turn around. And when he does, Harry is there waving his hand and catching his breath. 

“You walk fast,” he chuckles, his cheeks reddening. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think it was you. I thought you weren’t even home,” Louis watches Harry collect himself, steady his breathing and stroke his hair into place. 

“I wasn’t supposed to be home, I’m actually supposed to be with someone else. But I saw you from the window and yeah, thought I’d like to hear more,” he looks eager, his eyes shining and an out of breath smile curving his lips upwards. 

 

“I haven’t seen you here this past couple of weeks,” Harry points out, clearly wanting to know why Louis hasn’t been there. 

“I’ve been trying to go back to my life again, you know, catch up with normal things,” Louis smiles, but doesn’t really feel the smile stirring his insides. The more he looks at Harry, the only thing he can think about is if Harry has been waiting to see him again. Like he would’ve waited for Louis to come around. When that hasn’t happened, he has marked the days into a mental list which is titled as “days the boy hasn’t been at my apartment”. No, that can’t be true. Can it? 

“Oh, sounds nice, you know, like you’ve been an adult while I’ve been by the window and…” Harry smiles, but it turns into a stare which tells Louis that Harry has told him more than he was meant to say. Louis lets it slide; he doesn’t want Harry to feel uncomfortable. 

 

“So, what is in your normal life? What do you do?” Harry asks. He follows Louis when he starts to walk again. They walk side by side, much slower than the others on the street. Louis doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s just pleased he’s with Harry. 

“UNI mainly.” 

“What do you study?” 

“Architecture, but I’m not sure if I want to invest my time on it anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Louis turns to look at Harry and shakes his head lightly. 

“I don’t know. I’ve always liked architecture, but studying it seems a bit forced, especially after the accident,” Louis clears it out for the first time to himself too and it sounds odd to hear him say it out loud. He knows that it has been hard to study lately, but now when he actually acknowledges it, it seems like the truth. He’s not sure if he wants to study architecture and it’s fine. He’s fine about it. 

“Oh,” Harry sounds like he’s deep in thought, but when Louis glances at him, he seems like he has already moved on. Maybe that information doesn’t really mean anything to him, especially when Louis is still a stranger to him. 

 

“Can we take a few steps back?” Harry suggests, but keeps walking forward. 

“Why?” 

“Well, I want to know more, I can’t just dive straight into the deep end when I don’t even know your name,” Harry raises his brows and lets out a chuckle, which almost mocks Louis and his stupidity. 

“Oh, you mean that! I thought you meant literally taking a few steps back,” Louis laughs and he feels his cheeks blushing. How embarrassing. He can hear Harry’s light giggles, but he hides them into his palm and when he moves his hand from his mouth, he looks neutral again. Not amused or angry, just mellow. 

“Well, my name is Louis.” 

“Lewis?” 

“No, Louis, like French or something,” 

“Ooh, Louis, okay, I get it,” Harry nods and smiles as he tastes the name around his mouth. 

“Just ask me anything because I don’t know what I’d tell you from the top of my head. There’s just too much to tell and I don’t know what I’d tell you first,” Louis clears and Harry starts to think about the possible questions. 

“That’s not really an easy task for me either,” Harry points out. Silence falls between the two and they walk until they reach a park. A large pond stretches out in front of them, which is surrounded with benches. 

“Shall we sit?” Louis points at one of the seats and they walk towards it. They sit down, keeping a generous distance between each other. Harry turns towards Louis and bends his leg to rest it on the bench while his other foot rests against the gravel. Louis takes the backpack from his back and keeps it next to him behind his back. 

“There’s just too many questions in my head,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head and watching Louis with wide eyes. 

“I guess I should start with something easy…” Louis expects something in the lines of how old Louis is or something. 

 

“Last time, when you talked to me, you told me that you helped me home after we had met for the first time. But nothing happened. Is that true?”

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you try anything?” 

“I’m not like that and you were very drunk, everyone in their right mind would just help you home and leave,” Louis doesn’t really know why Harry went back to that. 

“You told me that you have had quite a lot of one night things,” Louis says, which makes Harry intrigued.

“You told me that it was easier for you, because you weren’t able to connect well with anyone. You just wanted someone to be close even though just for a night. You kept asking me why I didn’t do anything with you which was very odd to my ears. But I guess you were very used to it; that people took advantage of you when you were drunk,” Louis talks slowly so Harry could prepare himself to hear such personal things from a strangers mouth. Harry doesn’t say anything to what Louis tells him, but turns his face away and watches the pond for a moment. A group of ducks swim towards the shore and settle between the reeds. 

“Did you tell me anything about it, to stop or something?” 

“No, I just told you that it’s not right. That you shouldn’t be so drunk when you go back home with some random dude or when you can’t remember the events of the night correctly.” Harry nods, but still doesn’t look at Louis. 

“I’m sorry, this might not be the best thing to start with…” 

“No, it’s the truth, it’s just the truth,” Harry gives a half smile, holding in a breath and then blowing it out in a long, quiet sigh. 

 

“You told me that you helped me with my demo?” 

“I did! You had gotten a lot of rejections and that drove you to drink. I wanted to hear your demo and after that we started to think ways to freshen it up and make it more noticeable for the people in the business. I had already heard you performing on the street and I had read some of your poems, but hearing the demo really changed everything for me. I knew you were going to make it.” Louis smiles when the memory comes back to him. The moment when he was sitting on the floor of Harry’s apartment and listening to the songs from his demo. 

“Were you there when I got the deal?” 

“Yeah, I waited outside the whole time. And when you came out from there, you were smiling so wide and you ran to me and we hugged and…” Louis stops himself and closes his mouth while he’s still smiling. He can’t bring it up. 

“And?” 

“Well… There was a couple of moments when…” Harry looks at Louis questioningly. He’s very impatient and Louis can feel it in the air. 

“Well we kissed. But it didn’t mean anything. Even you said that you were just so excited.” Harry doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s in shock by what Louis is telling him. 

“When did we kiss again?” 

“It was after you had gone out with this guy, Caden, who drugged you. I got you home and stayed with you and then we kissed.” 

“Hmmm,” Harry hums and turns towards Louis. He leans his arm against the back of the bench and steadies his head to his hand. 

 

“You also knew about my parents and about how they pay for the apartment?” 

“I actually came to see them with you when you went there for dinner. I still don’t know much about them, other than you don’t have a great relationship with your dad. You fought about him wanting you to be normal in his standards. While we were there, you also played me the piano. Moonlight sonata, I think. You told me about Dan…” Harry looks terrified when Louis mentions Dan’s name. He moves on quickly so Harry doesn’t have to hold onto that subject for too long. 

“When we were leaving, you went to talk with your mum on the porch and your dad talked with me. He told me that you hate him because he tells you what to do. But I guess you’re just on different levels. He does love you though.” 

“I’ve been in contact with my dad a bit more lately, actually.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, especially now when I can actually pay my own rent,” Harry chuckles, but seems relaxed to talk about this. 

 

“Why did you leave? Why can’t I remember you?” There they are. The questions Louis doesn’t know if he should answer. 

“It was just my time to go. When we met, I told you that I’m taking a break from life and that pretty much sums it up. I was taking a break and then I had to come back to real life.” Harry nods slowly at Louis’ words, clearly not understanding a thing. 

“Did you have a limp when we were together?” 

“No,” Louis shakes his head. He has mostly forgotten his limp; it has become part of his life by now. The phantom pains still surprise him, but maybe he’ll get used to them at some point. Harry raises his brows in question. 

“I was in a car accident and injured my leg quite badly.” 

“That sounds horrible! When was it?” 

“Last spring,” Louis hears himself say and watches Harry closely. He stares Louis back, trying to understand what Louis just said. 

“Did anything else happen?” 

“I was in a coma for nineteen weeks.” 

“And when was this, last spring?” Louis only nods because Harry is already too close to the real truth. 

“So when you were in a coma, you’re telling me that you spent time with me?”

“I’m not saying anything because I don’t know what happened either. I was in a car accident and got into a coma and then I woke up five months after and I’ve been trying to get back to some normal life.” 

“Why can’t I remember anything?” 

“I don’t know that either. But if it’s meant to happen, then you’ll figure everything out. I’m not going to tell you my speculations because even I don’t know if I should rely on them. But if your memory will come back, then it will. I don’t want you to force anything and if you don’t want to hang out or anything, you don’t have to.” 

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to spend time with a stranger who knows everything about me and I don’t know anything about them. But I guess, if we were as close as you’re telling me, then I can wait for my memory to save me,” Harry smiles. He closes his mouth and his brows scrunch together. 

 

“Am I part of your normal life?” He asks, perplexed by his own question. 

“I… don’t know,” Louis doesn’t know. How can’t he know that? The time he was unconscious, he was with Harry. In reality he was with Jeremy. But was Harry part of Louis’ reality? What can you even call real anymore? 

“Is there anyone else in your normal life?” 

“Like who?” 

“Someone else, a guy or…” 

“There’s no guys, I just broke up with one,” Louis brings his hands up defensively, chuckling a little. 

“You were with someone?” 

“Yeah, we were together before the accident and after I woke up, I didn’t know why we were together anymore.” 

“Hmmm.” 

 

“Let’s say I believe you, because everything you just told me happened last spring and there’s no question about it if you know me or not. I just can’t remember you and it’s throwing me off. I don’t understand why I can’t remember you. Why can’t I?” 

“I don’t know… I… Don’t know…” 

“Let’s get going, I was supposed to see Tony tonight,” Harry stands up and wipes his jeans from the thin layer of dust that covered the bench. Louis puts on his backpack and catches up with Harry to walk next to him. His left leg has turned very stiff and his limp is even worse than usually. 

“Is Tony your boyfriend?” 

“I don’t think we’re exclusive, but something like that. You’ve seen him, when you were stalking me,” Harry glances at Louis from the corner of his eye before he starts to chuckle loudly. 

“I promise you, I wasn’t stalking you! I just didn’t know how to approach you!” Louis laughs, almost losing his balance. He needs to focus on just one thing apparently, and that is walking. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just a bit of pain,” Louis bites his teeth together and breathes deeply to get rid of the stiffness and the pain that starts to shoot up and down his leg. 

“If there’s anything I can do, don’t be afraid to ask.” 

“No, this is fine, I just have to get used to it and then it’ll ease,” Louis assures, but Harry stays close if Louis happens to need something. 

 

They keep on walking slowly out from the park and take a detour back to Harry’s. He wants to hear little things about their time spent together. He asks what Louis did when they were at Harry’s and why they were never at Louis’. He thinks he avoids the question quite well by saying that Harry wouldn’t have had anything he needs, if they would’ve been at Louis’. He just can’t tell Harry that he would’ve been an intruder if Louis would’ve shown Harry his home. 

It’s mostly confusing to Harry; how much Louis knows about him and his life. Everything Louis tells him is so personal that even his sister might not know anything about them. Louis reveals their conversations to Harry and he wants to know every little thing Louis ever said to Harry. But how is Louis supposed to remember what he said to everything Harry ever told him. Louis has enough trouble remembering their every conversation; how could he remember what the actual dialogue was. 

They approach Harry’s apartment block with teas in hands. Harry starts to tense up and his laughter turns from relaxed to short little laughs, which don’t resonate from deep within. He’s looking straight ahead and Louis can already see the black car next to Harry’s building. 

“Louis, I do believe you and what you told me. I don’t understand any of it, but it has to be real. But I have to ask you to give me some privacy. I think Tony isn’t going to like seeing me late and with someone else. But I hope you’re going to come back soon, okay? Don’t be a stranger for weeks, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” Louis smiles and sees Tony standing up from the car. He sees Louis and his eyes drill holes to Louis’ skull. 

“Okay, I’ll see you,” Louis almost lifts his arms up to hug Harry, but then drops them. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to say goodbye to Harry, so he settles into an awkward wave. 

“Bye then,” Harry chuckles, waving back. He gives Louis one last smile before he goes to Tony. Louis guesses he invites Tony in because they’re walking up the stairs into Harry’s building. He keeps the door open for Tony and then walks in after him. 

 

Louis smiles and stands still for a moment, before he turns around and starts his way back home. He never thought it’d go that well. Maybe Harry does remember everything deep down, but those memories aren’t just flooding his mind yet. Louis hopes they’re going to come back to him, and rather soon. He wants Harry to remember what they were like, how good friends they were. The thought about being Harry’s friend makes Louis smile even wider. He feels giddy, like he could prance around the streets and start an impromptu group singing with everyone. 

He doesn’t do that. He allows his cheeks to blush and his stomach be filled with butterflies which tickle him. He finishes his tea before he’s home and when he opens the door, he can smell food. Food that he forgot he needed. 

What has his life come to? He has never forgotten to eat before, but now with Harry… That boy is special and Louis has known that long ago. 

Harry just needs to remember everything. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis is mushed between a fence and the wall of people behind his back. He can feel his leg starting to throb with pain, but when the lights start to flash and the intro plays, he forgets it. He doesn’t care if there are hundreds of people behind him and trying to get as close to the stage as they can. He doesn’t care about the sweat that dribbles on his neck and tickles his chest, when it travels on his skin. He doesn’t care about his hair getting messy or how it sticks to his forehead. Trying to style it away from his forehead doesn’t help and his fringe keeps falling down. 

When he sees Harry walking onto the stage and hears the roar from the crowd; that’s all he can care about. Harry recognises Louis in the front row and smiles at him. He starts to sing while Niall entertains the crowd with his dance moves. They aren’t that bad, but Louis has seen better. Niall is clearly not a dancer, but his moves are pretty good and very innovative. He pretends to push a trolley and bake something and then he makes those swimming moves which were a hit back in the sixties. 

The audience is going wild from Harry’s singing and Niall’s backup dancing and Louis laughs. He hasn’t heard himself laugh like this in a long time and he’s practically still not hearing himself. But he can feel the laughter bubbling in his chest and how it resonates in his lungs. Harry can’t stop smiling when he sees Louis so happy. He keeps on singing, realising that he has been singing the same line over and over again. 

Louis can’t stop laughing when he hears Harry starting with the same words again. Niall gives Harry a weird look, his eyes asking what the hell he’s doing. Harry tries to fix his mistake by continuing the song and actually moving on, but he can feel his cheeks heating up and he can see Louis losing it even more. The crowd is still singing along, but the faces he can see, look very amused. 

 

Going to Harry’s concerts seems to be Louis’ new hobby. Whenever he can, he follows Harry to a new venue and new city, hopping on a train and listening to Harry the whole way. He lets Stephen know where he is every time, but sometimes Louis stays in a new city with Harry to spend some time together before him and Niall have to leave again. Maybe just for a walk after a concert or a coffee in Harry’s room. But they seem to be enough. 

Louis feels like Harry can already remember everything; that he’s just playing Louis. But when Louis tells one more detail about their time together, Harry’s brows scrunch together and he looks like he’s deep in thought. Harry keeps returning to the fact that Louis was in a coma and he asks more and more questions about it, but Louis doesn’t know what he should say. There really is nothing to say, other than that Harry will figure it out on his own. 

Louis doesn’t want to be in the same situation as when he was when he told Harry that he was an angel. It made him feel like a patient who ran away from a mental institute. He doesn’t want to label himself crazy again or by Harry. 

 

“I think I need to get going, I have to get up early tomorrow,” Louis explains to Harry, as they’ve finished their teas. The night is chilly and Louis kind of regrets not bringing a coat with him even though he has a long sleeved shirt. He just thought he’d quickly meet Harry and tell him something he had forgotten to tell Harry before. 

“Okay, but wait, one more thing,” Harry turns towards him on the bench where Louis first told Harry about everything. 

“Yeah?” 

“How did you know that it was Marie on the street? Why did you tell her to come and see me back then?” 

“You showed me pictured of her and you. They were from an ice rink where she had taken you ice skating. When I saw her on the street, there were no questions she wouldn’t have been who I thought she was. I knew I had to do something because you clearly missed her even though you weren’t talking about her or didn’t bring her up.” 

Harry stares at Louis and then hums in agreement. 

 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“What?” 

“Or actually…” Harry stutters, chuckling and turning away. 

“What?” Louis laughs, leaning forward like he could hear the question from Harry’s mind if he was a bit closer. 

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Just forget it,” Harry glances at Louis and smiles. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, it was silly anyway, let’s just forget it.” 

They sit in silence. The ducks quack somewhere quietly and the bushes of reefs rustle, as the birds swim into their safety. 

 

“Were you supposed to go?” Harry asks, when Louis isn’t making any effort to leave. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I have to get going,” Louis gives a joyless laugh. He wouldn’t want to go. It doesn’t matter if he’s a bit cold or if he’d have to get up in a few hours. He’d just want to extend this one moment. Just knowing that Harry is still next to him even though to Harry this is all very new. 

To Louis it’s like he has gone back in time. He knows that Harry is still the same as before, even though he wouldn’t remember anything from their time together. Everything has changed and nothing has changed. It’s an odd state of mind, Louis realises. He feels free and alive, but it all seems too good to be true. He’s afraid something’s going to happen and pop the bubble he’s living in. But there seems to be no distractions or threats which could end Louis’ happiness. It’s just this moment, this particular place, where he wants to stay. 

 

He collects his backpack and stands up. 

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Louis says, feeling hopeless to leave. He wouldn’t want to go, not yet. 

“Louis?” Harry asks, when he has already turned around and taken a few steps to leave. Louis turns back around, not sure what Harry is going to say. He’s hoping for something, like a grand gesture, but he doesn’t know what that could be. 

“I’m going to a pub with a few people tomorrow, would you like to come there too? If you’re free, that is?” Harry swallows thickly, Louis can see it. 

“Tomorrow’s fine, yeah.” 

“Great! I guess you already know the pub, it’s close to my place. We’ll be there at around nine,” Harry looks out towards the pond when he thinks back to what time he settled with his friends. 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there!” Louis smiles. 

“Okay, see you then,” Harry smiles back and watches Louis wave bye and leave. He follows Louis walk away as long as he can see him. Harry doesn’t leave from the park until the sky starts to turn from black to grey. He’s so confused and so sure about everything at the same time. It almost terrifies him to know that there’s this person, who knows Harry so thoroughly. And Harry knows nothing about the time they spent together. He still feels like it’s a magic trick; that someone’s just very good at digging up things, which Harry wants to leave untouched. 

 

At the same time, those secrets are safe with Louis. And that confuses Harry the most. What happened? How did it happen? He has no explanations and Louis doesn’t tell even if he would know. Harry is almost sure he knows what happened, but would it matter anyway? Does it matter if Harry would know how he doesn’t remember anything about Louis who he was close friends with. 

Unexplainable thing after another pile in Harry’s mind and keep him awake. Until he comes to the conclusion that the only thing that matters is the time he has now. If Louis really is this long lost friend, then maybe Harry needs to keep on trying. Maybe his mind is just playing a trick on him and hiding all the memories somewhere deep. He wants to open that box and find Louis from his memories. He wants to know how he felt back then when he was with Louis. Maybe then he can get some clarity to the feelings he has now. 

Especially when he has never been more interested in someone than he is with Louis. Like Harry would’ve been trying to find the end of the rainbow and then he stopped trying. The treasure came to him and he doesn’t know how that happened. Suddenly he was there, standing in front of his building and he holds all these secrets Harry seems to have forgotten. 

 

Harry is so confused that it almost starts to make sense. He’s so sure Louis isn’t lying and he wants to know more even though Louis has said he has already told Harry everything. There just has to be something more that drove Louis to come and find Harry. He doesn’t want to believe that Louis only intention was to tell Harry about all the very personal things, which only a handful of people know about. There is something more, which might be the scariest part. Maybe it’s another thing that will just appear when the time is right. 

When Harry gets home, he digs out the old shoebox where all those pictures of Marie and him rest. He takes out one of the pictures, which was taken at the ice rink. It all seems so familiar, but at the same time the memory seems so far away. He was a different person back then and now when he’s looking at the picture, he doesn’t want to hide it away. He feels calm looking at it, even though it reminds him of the downhill he had to experience. 

He takes the box of pictures next to him on the bed and goes through them one by one. He still has a few images in his hand when he feels his eyes getting heavier and he has to close them. He dreams about going ice skating with Marie and someone else, who laughs so clearly in Harry’s mind that it makes him laugh too. It’s all too good and sweet, just a dream. 

 

\- - - -

 

The rain keeps pouring down when Louis runs towards the pub. He holds his jacket over his head, but the fabric is letting through small droplets of water, which trickle down the back of his neck. His sneakers are filled with water and the slosh every time his foot hits the pavement. The rain has also come through his jeans and they feel cold against his wet skin. Fortunately he can already see the pub. The lights are warm and welcoming. Now that he looks at it through the rain, the place looks comforting. He never saw it as that. Before it looked like something evil which holds a threat to everyone who sets their foot inside.

Louis didn’t really see it even the last time when he came there, because he was so nervous. Back then he was only prepared to talk with Liam and his fear was meeting Harry. Now those fears and nerves are gone. There’s this new kind of nervousness, which makes his stomach tingle and his heart beat too fast like he would’ve ran a marathon and not just since the rain surprised him. 

He pushes the door open and steps inside. He’s welcomed by warmth, music and a waft of beer and liqueur which make the place feel like a pub. When he wasn’t really living and he came here, he never smelled anything. The only thing he saw was the empty souls, which sat on the stools and Harry, who was trying to drown his worries into that heavy glass, which held the golden brown liqueur. 

Now there are small groups of people sitting in booths and they laugh and fill the pub with this homey feeling. The place almost feels like it has never been here; like Louis would’ve been in another pub and now it has been replaced with this comfortable looking place. Everything just looks the same. 

 

“Louis!” He hears Harry’s voice and looks for it. He finds Harry standing in one of the booths with people around the table. They’re all looking at Louis when he walks closer and holds his jacket in his hand. 

“You look like a wet dog,” one of the men says. He looks a bit older than the others in the group, though not older than thirty. He has happy eyes and short hair. Crinkles form around his eyes when he smiles and he’s holding a drink in his hand with graciousness. 

“I didn’t realise to bring an umbrella or anything,” Louis says to him, narrowing his eyes when the man’s smile starts to widen. 

“You should get used to the spring rains.” 

“I’m used to it, I’ve lived my whole life here!” Louis defends himself, watching the guy lift his hands up in front of him.

“No need to lose your temper,” he smiles and has a mocking smile. Louis has a feeling the guy is not going to be his best friend, though he does like a challenge. Maybe at the end of this evening the guy will be bearable. Especially after a few drinks. 

 

“Nick, stop it,” Harry turns towards him and orders him lowly. Then he faces Louis again and has a bright smile on his face. 

“I’m happy you still came and didn’t turn back around,” he smiles and clumsily comes forward to take the wet jacket from Louis’ hands. He leans onto the table, his long legs bumping against other people’s legs. He almost falls in front of Louis, but keeps his balance. He takes the jacket from Louis and shakes it a little. Small water drops shake out from the fabric and land on Louis’ feet. He doesn’t really feel it though. His shoes suck the water in and only add to the wetness his socks and feet are already feeling. 

Louis smiles at Harry and he feels his eyes lock with Harry’s. 

 

“Well aren’t you two cute,” Louis hears from the table and sees Niall with a smug smile on his face. 

“Hi!” He waves his hand at Louis like he wouldn’t have said anything possibly awkward. Harry hangs Louis’ jacket on one of the stands next to the booth and turns towards the group of people. 

“Yeah, everyone, this is Louis. Louis, this is….” 

“Don’t say everyone,” Louis warns, but keeps a warm smile on his face. 

“Uuuh, sassy,” he hears the annoying guy, Nick say. He casts a stern look at the guy, but he laughs, making Louis’ efforts to be tough impossible. Harry laughs awkwardly next to Louis, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah, that is my sister, Marie,” Harry points his hand out to the woman on the left side of the booth, closest to Louis. 

“Hello,” she says and smiles sweetly. Louis stares at her; He had already forgotten how much she resembles Harry and how beautiful she is. She doesn’t really look like she belongs into this pub. She looks like she belongs in fancy clubs and skyline bars. Louis nods a hello at her, but he wants to talk to her more if he has a chance. He starts to wonder if Harry has told her about Louis and what Louis has told him. Maybe he has, maybe he hasn’t. Marie still looks like a person who would understand the whole thing completely even when Louis wouldn’t understand what happened. 

 

“I guess you know Niall already,” Harry says and Louis smiles, while Niall smiles back. 

“Those two are Nick and Alex, the most annoying couple in the world,” Harry laughs. 

“Heeey, that’s below the belt! I know you love us!” Alex, a guy next to Nick says. He has a leather jacket and his hair is slicked back. He looks like he’s from another time, possibly from the fifties. He has a white button up shirt and he has a cigarette behind his ear, like he’d go out and have a smoke. Nick has draped his arm over Alex’s shoulder and he keeps saying something into his ear, which makes Alex grin and his eyes look like he is high on something. Maybe love. 

“And then there’s Liam, who you’ve already met,” Harry introduces. Liam smiles and stands up to shake Louis’ hand. Louis is a bit taken a back, but shakes Liam’s hand and introduces himself. 

 

“Now that everyone has arrived, can we finally start drinking?” Niall asks from the group and everyone hum with agreeing sounds. 

“Are we celebrating something?” Louis asks. Liam is making room for Harry and Louis on the couch and Harry is already sitting down next to him. 

“Actually we are,” Harry says, looking from Liam to his sister and everyone between. 

“Harry, you haven’t told him?” Nick asks, his brows shooting up. 

“What?” 

“Me and Niall had our last concert tonight before my album comes out,” Harry says and gives Louis a shy look. 

“What! Why didn’t you tell me!? That’s huge!” Louis exclaims, sitting down next to Harry. 

“I don’t….” 

“Harry! He’s almost your boyfriend and you didn’t tell him that!?” Nick’s eyes widen, but Louis’ eyes must look like they’re going to pop out of his head. Harry’s cheeks blush into a deep shade of red and he looks very embarrassed. 

“Oh c’mon, where’s your sense of humour!?” Nick laughs, letting the whole thing slide. Louis swallows thickly, not really knowing what he should say. Is he supposed to say something? He really doesn’t feel like saying anything. Has Harry said something to these people about him and Louis being almost boyfriends? 

“Maybe you should do something to your friend. I guess he’s not breathing,” Alex points out, nodding towards Louis. 

“No!” Louis exclaims and it comes out from his mouth way too loudly. 

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine, let’s drink!” He collects himself and smiles, but feels a bit manic. He has no idea where this night is going to go and what is going to happen. Maybe with these people everything’s possible, which doesn’t seem that bad of an idea. 

“Okay! Let’s drink!” Niall claps his hands together and massages them mischievously. Marie lets out a small cheer, raising her hands up like she’d be raising the roof. 

 

The drinks relax Louis and he feels heat forming around his body. He finds himself smiling and laughing at Nick and Alex’s jokes and stories and they actually seem like a very cool couple. Or then it’s the drinks. Harry and Niall talk about the last concert and how wild the crowd was. Apparently someone had come on the stage and dived into the crowd to surf on top of everyone. 

Whenever Louis says something, Harry turns his whole upper body towards him and stares at Louis’ mouth like he could see the words flowing out. At some point Louis realises Harry has his hand on the couch between him and Louis. His fingertips keep touching Louis’ thigh and that small touch feels the most intimate thing Louis has ever felt. Just that small area, which Harry touches, feels like it’s on fire and it reminds Louis of the times he touched Harry when he was still an angel. He can feel the sparks and the warmth that impales his flesh. 

 

“It’s good to see you again,” Liam reaches towards Louis at some point after too many drinks. This is Louis’ first time out drinking since the accident and he can definitely feel it. His head feels hazy and his feet heavy. 

“Remember? I told you I wish I’d see you again when you came here a while back?” Louis must look like he can’t recall a thing when Liam repeats himself. 

“Ooooh, yeah, you too!” Louis says, still not really remembering what Liam is talking about. Liam clearly sees that and laughs. 

“I think you need to have a bit of water between those drinks,” he says, mainly to Harry who is staying sober. He has been drinking water the whole evening, even though everyone else around the table are drinking quite heavily. Even his sister is leaning against Niall and they’re laughing at their own jokes. 

 

Harry looks at Louis, leaning a bit back to really see what Louis looks like. The first thing he sees is the goofy smile on Louis’ lips. His eyes are half open and when he looks at Harry, his eyes fall shut. 

“Yup, he needs water,” Harry agrees. He stands up and walks out form the booth. Louis leans back and keeps his eyes closed. He listens to the others, hearing a couple more quiet voices. 

“Have you seen how he looks at the boy? He has never looked at anyone like that,” Nick says. Louis’ eyes feel way too heavy for him to open them up, so the only thing he can do is smile. He’d might want to open his eyes and see are Nick talking about him, but who cares at this point. 

“I think we’re not far away from Harry telling us they really are together.” 

“I agree. And have you heard the new songs he has been writing? c’mon, they are clearly love songs and not just for anyone…” Nick silences his voice and Alex starts to laugh. Louis feels Harry coming back when his legs bump against Louis’. He sits down next to Louis and shakes Louis’ shoulder lightly.

Louis opens his eyes and takes a deep breath in like he would’ve woken up from a nap. Harry hands him the bottled water and Louis thanks him quietly. He forces his eyes to open more and sees Nick and Alex staring at him while whispering something to each other. They smile and then look at Harry, who is looking at Louis. Alex lifts his brows at Louis and then his glass in the air. He stands up and clears his throat. 

“Oh no,” Harry groans quietly. Louis pokes his thigh and shushes him. Louis can see the corner of Harry’s mouth curving up, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“I want to say a few words,” Alex announces, looking everyone in the eyes for a few seconds. 

“Tonight we celebrate Harry and Niall for finishing their tour. Next party is going to be a bit bigger and filled with more drinks, but let’s still stay in this moment.” Nick laughs like Alex would’ve said the century’s funniest joke. 

“To old friends and new friends, I hope we will see you all again,” he finishes, directing his last words at Louis. He raises his glass and everyone follows suit, Harry and Louis raising their water bottles. 

 

The night keeps on going. It gets filled with more drinks and laughter. The more Louis drinks water, more sober he gets. He starts to be more aware of his surroundings and his eyes aren't as heavy as they were an hour ago. He hears the way the others slur when they're trying to speak. Well, Harry sounds the same. He's just being Harry. 

When the others get more and more intoxicated, Louis realises he can't really understand the train of thought they have. Harry has been in that position for a while already. He's leaning against the back of the couch and smiles as he listens to the others trying to talk. The most intriguing part is how philosophical Nick gets and Niall can't stop agreeing with him. They talk about the environment and Louis is sure he hears the word 'dinosaur' slip into the conversation at some point too.

Louis leans back and he watches the others conversing with Harry. Everything seems just right, like there couldn't be a more perfect moment; more relaxed or fun.

 

"Enjoying the night?" Harry asks and turns his focus on Louis. He smiles softly, like he'd be drunk too.

"Very much, thank you," Louis smiles back while he's trying to listen to the others.

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me that you're celebrating such a milestone tonight," Louis points out, expecting to hear an apology from Harry.

"I didn't think it was such a huge thing. I've been just enjoying everything and this wasn't such a huge milestone for me. The album release is going to be so much more important for me."

Louis does understand Harry's point. He has been performing for so long that this is only a normal continuum for everything that has happened. When his dream comes true, he's probably going to react a bit differently. At least Louis hopes so.

"I hope I'll get an invite to that party too?"

"Of course! You're going to be a VIP guest!" Harry exclaims and laughs right after, enthused about Louis being there.

 

"Actually, do you want to get going?" Harry asks Louis, when they've listened to the others laugh for a while longer. Louis glances at Harry, whose cheeks are blushed again. They aren't that garish shade now, but still very visibly red.

"You want to get going?" Louis asks; like Harry would've asked it only because he thinks Louis wants to go already even though he's still enjoying his time.

"I think I wouldn't have asked you if I wouldn't want to go," Harry tilts his head questioningly.

"Yeah, true," Louis agrees and feels his cheeks blushing this time.

 

"Hey, everyone, I think we're going to get going," Harry tries to get their attention, but it seems like no one hears him. Louis is already putting on his jacket, which has dried out quite nicely already. It's only moist from some parts and that doesn't really bother him.

"Let's just go," Harry says and starts to lead them out.

"Hey! You two! You going?" They hear Nick's voice. Harry turns back around and goes to say goodbye to the group. Louis walks a bit closer, but stays further away from the table.

"Yeah. Thanks for the evening guys, we had fun," Harry smiles at them, reaching towards his sister to hug her goodbye.

"Have fun you two!" Alex yells, getting everyone's attention in the pub.

"Mwuah, mwuah, mwuah," Nick makes kissing noises. He laughs when Harry turns his back on him. Louis tries to keep his laughter at bay, but fails when he sees Harry covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not funny!” Harry squeaks which makes Louis laugh even more. He laughs until they reach the door and step outside. The fresh air seems to clear his mind and make him realise that it’s not funny. Not funny at all. Very realistic, though. 

 

They walk side by side and Louis already knows where they’re going. He has walked the way to Harry’s too many times. He’d be dumb if he wouldn’t know the streets and corners he has to take to finally end up at Harry’s. 

“I really like your friends,” Louis finally says after a very comforting silence. He needed that time to sober up a bit to make his voice less slurring. 

“Yeah? I was afraid you’d slap Nick after his comments,” Harry laughs, stuffing his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans. 

“I thought I was going to do that, too, but I decided he’s alright.” 

Louis glances at Harry and sees him smiling at his feet. He looks so odd when he doesn’t have his long hair anymore. He has chopped it into a very clean style, which suits him of course. But Louis was just so used to the long curls and the deep parting on his temple that seeing it like this is almost like the Harry walking next to him wouldn’t be the same Harry. He’s just someone who has the same name and very similar features. The longer locks on top of his head still do have that wavy texture and it reminds Louis he really is with Harry. It warms his insides; it’s something familiar and homey. 

 

“You’re staring,” Harry quickly glances at Louis and catches him in the act. 

“Sorry,” Louis breathes, cursing at himself. Why is he so smitten!? 

“So, you think you’ll hang out with us again?” Harry asks, taking Louis’ mind off of the embarrassment. 

“Definitely, I already felt like being part of your squad.” 

“Who uses the word squad?” Harry laughs and his voice echoes between the buildings. 

“I do! You know, squad goals!” Louis laughs with him and knows that he’s definitely tipsy to be talking like this. He never uses the word squad, he’s never even been part of any squad. Maybe now he could be. 

“I like it,” Harry says in the last bursts of laughter, which melts into deep breaths. Harry’s building starts to appear in front of them and Louis wouldn’t want to say goodbye yet. He’d like to keep on walking. It’s not even raining anymore, which makes everything nicer. He’d just want to stay here with Harry. 

 

“How’s your mum and dad?” Louis asks, not really knowing where he’s taking the conversation. 

“Are you really interested to know?” 

“Yeah, they were nice when I met them.” 

Harry stays silent for a moment, before he hums and takes a deep breath in. 

“They’re always nice to people they haven’t met before,” he points out. His steps get slower, which is definitely fine with Louis. Maybe Harry is a bit more comfortable to talk about his parents these days. Louis nods, knowing that Harry’s parents might not be the recipients of the best parents of the year- award. They just want to be perfect, no matter what’s happening behind closed doors.

“They’re okay. I’ve met them a few times and talked with them about some things that definitely made me angry. I still haven’t taken Marie there, because she doesn’t want to meet mum and dad yet. But they do know that she’s living here in the city and that I’ve been spending time with her.” 

“How have they taken it?” 

“What? That Marie doesn’t want to meet them? I guess they were confused, but understanding when I explained everything to them. I know they want to meet her, but I guess they’re giving her space.” 

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want Harry to think he’s trying to be some therapist who asks questions which don’t really help with anything. If he’d ask ‘how are you feeling about it all’, Louis thinks Harry might actually start laughing and say goodbye to him then there. 

 

“Did I ever meet your parents?” Harry asks and it’s not something Louis expects. 

“No, it would’ve been weird,” Louis chuckles, hoping Harry would drop it. He doesn’t. 

“Why?” 

“Well, dad thought I was going to die or then he thought I was already dead. And mum… She did something which made me keep her away from you. But she has seen you many times,” Louis follows Harry’s reactions and sees the slight change in his facial muscles when they make a few crinkles on his forehead and pull his brows together. 

“But I never saw her?” 

“I don’t think you were ever meant to see her,” Louis feels like he’s being just a dick at this point. Talking in riddles and all; how fake can someone even be? Louis shakes his head slightly, unimpressed with what he’s telling Harry. 

“Mysterious,” Harry laughs, which comforts Louis. He doesn’t know why it’s so nice to hear Harry laugh. Maybe it’s the low rumbling of his voice or the sound which is filled with real happiness. He never sounds like he laughs just because he has to. He laughs because he feels like laughing. 

 

“Do you think I could meet them some day? You know, you’ve met my parents, it’d only be fair for me to meet yours,” Harry walks a bit faster when they get closer to Harry’s building. He turns around and walks with his back towards the way they’re going so he can face Louis. 

“It’d be a bit hard,” Louis smiles, but feels his face tensing. He does smile and laugh sometimes just because he has to or he feels the situation needs some lightness, even though he wouldn’t want to smile or laugh. Sometimes the moment isn’t even funny, but still he fakes a laugh. He knows he has to get rid of that habit, maybe he should practice it. 

“Why?” 

“I’m living with my dad, so you could meet him. But my mum… She died last spring,” Louis says and he feels his face trying to bring out that stupid fake smile again. He forces it to die down and he keeps his face neutral. He hasn’t told anyone about his mum, because he hasn’t been in a situation which needed the information. 

It doesn’t hurt saying it out loud, but it’s odd. Louis still feels a very strong connection with his mum, like she’d be here all the time. Maybe she is; after all she’s a person who wants to take care of her family even though she wouldn’t physically be there anymore. 

 

Harry’s face twists with the information. First he’s smiling and then he looks very sad, almost pitying Louis. 

“I’m already used to her being gone, I always have her close no matter what,” Louis explains to him. 

“I’m very sorry,” Harry still says, walking backwards. Louis catches him taking a few longer steps and takes hold of Harry’s forearms. 

“Thank you,” Louis smiles. They wobble forward until Louis stops them in front of the steps to the front door. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis is already asking and it might be silly that he’s bringing it up. But he needs to know. He lets go of Harry’s arms and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He keeps his eyes on Harry’s, not turning away. He decides it, but then turns away and stares at the tips of his shoes. 

“You had that friend, that one guy with the black, nice car. Are you two together or anything?” He can hear Harry’s light laughter. 

“No, not anymore. We weren’t really anything, but I still ended it.” 

“You did?” Louis feels like it’s Christmas morning. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him in a while actually,” Harry looks at Louis like he wouldn’t understand why Louis is asking this. Like it’d be clear for Louis that he’s not seeing Tony anymore. 

“Oh,” Louis smiles and tries to dim it down, but he can’t help it when his real emotions shine through. 

“C’mon. I wouldn’t be hanging out with you if I’d have someone else,” Harry points out very proudly. 

“Oh…” Louis knows that his cheeks heat up and blush under Harry’s observant eyes. His heart pounds in his chest and his palms sweat in his pockets. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he says out loud, escaping from the potential moment for a kiss. Harry smiles and takes a breath in like he would’ve held it. He looks past Louis and then back to him, a sort of relief in his eyes. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he smiles and looks up towards his building. 

 

“Well, this is me.” 

“I know,” Louis nods and smiles. Harry chuckles lightly. Maybe someday they can actually laugh at the way Louis stood outside Harry’s building and stared at his windows. 

“Goodnight,” Harry says and turns on his heels. He walks the steps up hastily, already digging up his keys from his pocket. Louis turns away too, much slower though. 

 

“Louis?” He hears and turns back around to see Harry hesitating on the top step. 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s this thing next week, this dinner thing with my sister and her friend. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? It’s just dinner, nothing more,” Harry suggests and his words turn breathy when he doesn’t have enough air in his lungs. 

“Sounds good, yeah, sure,” Louis walks a bit closer so Harry doesn’t have to yell. 

“And it’s nothing more than just a dinner?” 

“Nothing more,” Harry confirms, pressing his lips together. 

“It’s a date then!” Louis says enthused, realising the wording. Harry laughs and it echoes inside Louis. He holds in the biggest bursts of laughter and only listens to Harry’s beautiful voice. 

“It’s a date then,” Harry agrees, turns back around and opens the door. 

“Goodnight!” Louis still manages to say. Harry smiles at him before the door closes after him. Louis stands outside for a moment longer and waits to see the lights turning on in Harry’s apartment. When the warm light comes through the glass, he breathes a few times and leaves. 

 

It’s a date then, he thinks and laughs to himself about the bad pun he made while not really realising he made one. But why would he lie. It’s a date, even though it’s not going to be the two of them. 

Louis feels lightness in his step as he walks home and when he reaches his house, he doesn’t feel like going to sleep. He’d just want to dance around the house and laugh. Like he would’ve gotten the best Christmas present he has ever had. 

Little did he know, the date wouldn’t be their only one. And the urge to dance around the house and laugh became even stronger, almost manic, when Louis came home after every date he was on with Harry. 

 

\- - - -

 

“Did you see that?” Harry claps his hands together and leans against Louis’ side. Louis nods his head to the beat of the music while they’re watching a contemporary dancer dancing to Niall’s music. He has such amazing control over his body and movements. Louis actually thinks the guy isn’t from this planet. He must be from some far away galaxy where there’s no gravity and he’s actually dancing in a bubble which normal human beings can’t see. The twists and pirouettes he dances make Louis feel like a log even when he’s only standing still.

Niall sings beautifully as always and Louis is almost expecting to see Harry walk up next to him and start singing too. It’s odd having Harry by his side and listening to Niall when he’s so used to seeing Harry on stage. He’s too used to seeing Harry on stage; he belongs there. He has always belonged there, Louis thinks. There’s no other place for Harry. Stage life chose him and Harry knows that. He just shines these days, even brighter when he’s performing. 

Louis looks up to see Harry and stares at him for a moment. The beauty of him and the way his skin is perfect under the soft lights. He can hear Harry humming to the song Niall is singing. Louis leans closer to hear the sound more clearly and when he’s close enough, Harry’s voice echoes from his chest into Louis’ ears. He closes his eyes and listens to the voice, which he wants to hear every day. 

“I’ll bring you a drink,” Harry suddenly says and almost lets Louis down when he leaves from Louis’ side. 

“O-okay,” Louis manages to stumble the word from his mouth. He sighs and keeps on listening to Niall even though he can’t stop thinking if he did something wrong. Did he say something out loud? Did he creep Harry out? What just happened? 

 

“Louis?” A familiar voice sounds behind Louis’ back. He hasn’t heard that voice in a while and when he turns around, he’s met with blond hair, brown eyes and much more tanned skin. 

“Jeremy!” Louis exclaims in surprise. He smiles at his ex, not knowing what to do. Jeremy hesitates for a moment, jerking forward until he reaches Louis and hugs him awkwardly. He pats Louis’ back a couple of times and keeps his other hand on Louis’ shoulder, almost like he’d be ready to push Louis away. Louis doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he keeps them by his sides, but laughs into Jeremy’s ear. 

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, when Jeremy moves back and looks at Louis. He is clearly unsure how he should continue from here; if he should offer Louis his company or tell him that he’s here on a date and the girl is in the toilet. Now he’s just trying to make himself busy. He didn’t really want to come and say hi to Louis, but it would’ve been more awkward if Louis saw him and they wouldn’t even say hi to each other. Jeremy would be super conscious about Louis being there anyway, so it doesn’t really matter if he meets Louis like this or in an awkward moment where they’re both made of stone and will end up saying hello in passing. 

 

“I’m on a date,” Jeremy spreads his hands to his sides like he’d be ready to do a magic trick. 

“Oh! Who’s the lucky guy?” Louis crosses his hands over his chest. He’s happy that Jeremy isn’t there alone; then Louis would’ve had to ask him join him and Harry. 

“Actually, a girl. Her name is Allie, a very nice girl from a study group,” Jeremy smiles and cocks an eyebrow. 

“Ah, I see,” Louis taps his forehead with his hand like he would’ve forgotten something very important about Jeremy. 

“Well, how are you? How am I meeting you here?”

“I’m good, yeah, actually very good. I’m studying full time now, no skipping lectures anymore,” Louis giggles like it’d be his and Jeremy’s inside joke. Jeremy chuckles and rubs his hands together. 

“Still architecture?” 

“Well no, I applied to study media stuff and music and got in. It’s very interesting,” Louis nods his head. He really feels like he did the right thing. Maybe someday he could be a manager or working in the music industry. He can thank only one person, who told him to apply and encouraged Louis when he thought he wouldn’t make it through the exam. And that person wasn’t Jeremy. 

 

“Wow! That has to be different?” 

“Sure, but I enjoy it,” Louis smiles and gives a long exhale. 

“So you here on a study thing or what?” 

“No, I’m on a date too. Actually, he knows the artist quite well,” Louis smiles proudly, looking towards the bar. He can see Harry ordering something from the bartender and leaning against the counter. He doesn’t look back and Louis can only see the back of Harry’s head. 

 

“You mean one of the dancers?” Jeremy brings Louis back to this moment. 

“Uhhh, no, Niall,” Louis is distracted by the tenseness he can see in Harry’s shoulders. 

“Niall Horan?” Jeremy’s voice makes Louis turn towards him. His face is completely shocked and he clearly wasn’t ready to hear Louis’ reveal. 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles shyly, almost like it wouldn’t have been right telling Jeremy about the connection to Niall. He turns back towards Harry, and sees him coming back. He’s holding two glasses, the other filled with something black and the other with something orange. He lifts the glasses a bit higher when he sees Louis. He keeps them up because some women walk under his arms and he would’ve tipped the glasses over if he would’ve lowered them. Louis glances at Jeremy, who tilts his head and his mouth opens. 

“Jeremy, this is Harry,” Louis introduces with blushed cheeks. 

“Hi,” Harry says with his low, raspy voice and he hands Louis the dark drink. Jeremy can’t get a word from his mouth, but he manages to look at Louis and then back to Harry. 

“Jeremy was there when I was in the accident and also after it. We were together for a while before we realised it wasn’t really working,” Louis doesn’t know why he’s giving his and Jeremy’s life story to Harry, but he nods his head and looks at Jeremy with interest.

“And him?” Jeremy asks, his hand raising to point at Harry. 

“Well… Harry is someone who I met while…” 

“You were in a coma,” Jeremy fills in the gap and amazement washes over his face. 

“I think I need to get going,” Jeremy says and turns around shaking his head. 

“It was nice meeting you!” Harry says after him while Louis gives a weak “bye”. Jeremy waves his hand in the air, but doesn’t look back. 

 

“Did he know?” Harry asks, leaning towards Louis’ ear.

“I did tell him about my experience, but I never told him about you.” 

“I guess that explains his reaction,” Harry chuckles and takes a ship of his drink through a red straw. 

“What are these, by the way?”

“Oh, yours is rum and coke. I have an orange soda,” Harry drinks through the straw and looks at Louis with innocent eyes. 

“I’ve told you I don’t need to drink. Especially when you’re not drinking,” Louis looks at the tall glass in his hand and then at Harry, who looks down towards the orange liquid. 

“Okay.” 

“But of course it’s nice that it doesn’t bother you that I’m drinking,” Louis smiles. Harry starts smiling too, even though he looks like he’s just been told to go stand in a corner. 

“Of course I don’t mind. You can drink even when I wouldn’t,” he explains and shrugs his shoulders. 

“Oh you and your modesty,” Louis bumps himself against Harry’s side and slides his hand into Harry’s. The sparks start flying right away and his skin crawls with goose bumps. You know, the good kind. Now he’s happy that Harry brought him something stronger than just a lemonade. 

 

“Jeremy?” Allie asks when she finds Jeremy standing by the bar. He’s looking at Louis and Harry who are watching the dancer and Niall. 

“Hi,” he says and even he can hear the anxiety exploding in his voice. 

“Has something happened?” She comes to stand by him and puts her hand over his. 

“I just met my ex, you know, the guy I told you about?” 

“Yes?” 

“Now I know that he hasn’t gone mental. He never looked at me the way he looks at his date and…” He puffs a breath out and chuckles for a moment. Allie tries to follow the story, but she can’t. She tries to look through the crowd to see a guy, who at least in some way reminds of the guy who Jeremy has told her about. But she can’t. 

 

“I think he’s in love,” Jeremy laughs and his expression is just a mix of emotions. 

“Is that a good thing?” Allie asks, almost ready to leave Jeremy right then and there. 

“Yes, very, because I know that he’s happy now,” Jeremy turns towards Allie and gives a relieved breath. 

“Should we get out of here? Do something which isn’t as formal?” 

“What do you have in mind?” She smiles almost like she wouldn’t believe what Jeremy is telling her. 

“Let’s go to a movie and something, go for a drive or anything you like?” Jeremy suggests and hopes Allie will say yes. She nods and Jeremy smiles, which makes him feel like he hasn’t smiled at all in a long, long time. She wraps her hand around his arm and starts to pull him out of the event. 

He gives one last look towards Louis and Harry. Louis is looking at his way and waves goodbye. He smiles and there’s this feeling of righteousness. Everything’s right; they did the right thing when they ended it. Jeremy lifts his hand up and smiles, letting Allie lead him out. 

It’s all good. 

 

\- -

 

“You think I can come in?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think dad’s here. His car was gone,” Louis walks into the house with his shoes still on. He looks into the kitchen. Stephen’s not there. Livingroom? Not there either. There’s no lights on in the whole house and it’s so quiet that if someone would drop a pin to the floor, he’d hear it. The silence almost hurts his ears. He looks back towards the door and sees Harry standing in the doorway, listening for sounds too. 

“Come in,” Louis smiles and walks to him, pulling Harry by his hand. Louis sees his shoulders tensing again, but he’s not sure why. Is there something bothering Harry or what? He hopes Harry would just talk rather than stay silent. 

“You want me to take my shoes off?” Harry asks, his voice shaking just the slightest. 

“Yeah, please,” Louis toes off his shoes and watches Harry stumble with his. 

“You okay?” Louis asks, his hand touching Harry’s shoulder. Harry almost loses his balance again, even though he’s standing on both of his feet. Louis pulls back and watches Harry stand up. Louis can’t see Harry’s face, but he can see his figure. His whole presence makes Louis so uneasy that he’d maybe want Harry to leave rather than come in. Louis just asked him to come over, see his home when Louis never showed it to Harry the last time. But of course Harry can’t remember that. 

 

“I…” He breathes deeply and stands in place even though Louis is trying wordlessly welcome him inside. Louis moves backwards and puts the light on in the hall. 

“It’s a funny thing actually,” Harry chuckles, but looks like he’s about to cry. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis walks to his side and places his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Louis almost thinks that Harry must be in pain, but then his cheeks turn bright pink and he smiles shyly. 

“Just tell me already!” Louis exclaims and gives a laugh, but his face stays hopeless. 

“I’m really nervous to be here. I feel like we knowing each other has been leading up to this moment and now that I’m here, I feel like I should be this very courageous human, but I’m not. I don’t think I can do anything. I…” Louis presses his hand on Harry’s mouth. 

“What do you mean exactly? What do you think we’re going to do?” Harry looks down as soon as Louis asks his question, which makes Louis pull his hand away. 

“Are you thinking that I invited you here because I want to sleep with you?” 

“Well, yes,” Harry pulls his brows together and looks at Louis under his brow. Louis looks at him for a while with his mouth open, his face painted with incredulousness. His lungs empty with a short breath and he starts to laugh. He looks at Harry and laughs a bit more. It’s just barks of laughter, but they fill his body with this silly energy that tells him to laugh just a bit more. 

 

“No, Harry, no,” Louis laughs and he gets it out in a long sigh. He looks at Harry with sympathy and warmth. 

“No, Harry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t want to say goodbye yet and I thought you’d want to see where I live. Since I’ve seen your childhood home and where your apartment is,” he lets go of Harry’s arms and moves further into his home. 

“You have to remember that I don’t remember you being at my place,” Harry walks forward slowly, still harnessing that shyness in his step. 

“I know, and I also know that you wouldn’t remember if you would’ve been here or not,” Louis cocks an eyebrow, putting on lights as he goes. Harry gives a soft chuckle, watching his surroundings. 

“I’m sorry I thought you brought me here only thinking about sex. I don’t know what got to me,” Harry shakes his head slowly, his eyes drifting to Louis and then getting lost on the house again. 

“Don’t apologise when there’s nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve told you what I meant and not just assumed that you’re going to read my mind.” Harry looks at Louis from the corner of his eye, watching into the kitchen. Louis is walking towards his room at the end of the hall and is unsure if he should open the door. Could it look like he did bring Harry here just because Louis would want sex? Though now he has said that wasn’t on his mind. 

 

“What’s behind that door?” Harry points at the door behind Louis’ back. 

“Well, my room, but I’m not sure if I should show it to you.” Louis stands in front of his door awkwardly with his hands behind his back. 

“Why not?”

“Because the only thing you can really first see in there is my bed and if things considering beds unsettle you, then I shouldn’t show you my room.” 

Harry walks to Louis a bit more briskly, tilting his head and he chuckles. Chuckles! When Louis thought he’s being responsible and considerate, Harry has the nerve to chuckle to his face.

“I’m not afraid of sex, Louis, not at all. I just don’t want anything to happen tonight,” he says and reaches behind Louis’ back to open the door. There’s no lights on so he can’t really see anything. Louis does what is needed and switches the lights on. 

“Yeah, I definitely wasn’t ready to see this. White walls, a desk and a bed. Just too much, take me out of here,” Harry says dead serious, before his features melt into a smile. 

“Haha, so funny, Harry,” Louis slaps Harry lightly on his bicep and Harry rubs the spot with his hand like it would’ve hurt a lot. 

“Oh shut up!” Louis laughs, leaning his back against the doorway. 

“Were you thinking about it earlier too? That tonight something has to happen?” Louis asks while gripping the wooden frame behind his back with his fingertips. He never thought Harry would be nervous about something like this, though he does have a very sensitive side. But from a guy, who told Louis all that time ago that he used to have a lot of one night stands, this is something totally different. 

Of course Louis always knew Harry wasn’t like that. He’s not a person who wants to just jump to things when he has known the other person only for a few hours. He’s sensitive and thoughtful and kind. When he was drunk, all of that was forgotten and he also forgot who he was. He didn’t respect himself when he was drunk, he just wanted to have someone by his side even though the other person wouldn’t have really cared what happened and if they took care of each other after sleeping together. 

 

Harry leans his back against the doorframe also, opposite from Louis, and looks into his eyes. His face illuminates from the bedside lamp Louis put on and he looks otherworldly. He just glows. 

“Of course I was. Tonight is different, I don’t know why, but it is.” 

Louis thinks about Harry’s words for a moment and realises that tonight certainly is different. The energy between them has shifted and it seems stronger. Of course Louis has felt a pull towards Harry since the day he saw Harry again. Now it seems like there’s a steel link between them and it’s getting stronger by the second. Louis nods at Harry’s words, not noticing when Harry comes closer. 

“You do know that I really like you?” Harry asks slowly, his voice so calm and extremely close. Louis brings his face up and is met with Harry, who is only inches away. 

“I think I do,” Louis notes. His voice shakes and the nerves Harry had earlier seem to have been transported to him. Now Harry is confident and Louis is feeling vulnerable. He just wants to be put out of his pain. 

“And I also think you like me too?” Harry asks, his voice fading out. 

“That is correct,” Louis swallows, knowing that tonight is going to change everything. He feels it in the air and his heart keeps pumping blood so fast that he thinks there’s not enough blood in his body to be pumped. 

 

“I’d really like to kiss you?” Harry asks, biting his lips together. 

“You ask too many questions,” Louis points out and releases his hands from the doorway. He brings them to Harry’s chest and fists Harry’s shirt to pull him closer. Harry opens his mouth and lets out a breathy laugh before Louis kisses him hard. He can’t even describe how much he has missed kissing Harry and how it feels like he has never kissed Harry before. 

The feeling that rushes in his nerves is exquisite and extraordinary and superb and every other superlative there is to describe a kiss and his feelings. He can’t feel his legs anymore, but feels Harry holding his waist tightly and wrap his arms around Louis in a hug that just closes him into a void of sparkles and heavy heart beats. He can feel Harry’s pulse beating all over his body under his skin. 

When Louis moves his hands up to entwine his fingers behind Harry’s neck, he feels the blood rushing in Harry’s veins and it makes his skin feel hot. He breathes in and feels Harry sliding his tongue into his mouth which Louis never experienced with Jeremy. He doesn’t really know why they never kissed like that, when with Harry it’s sweet and makes Louis feel like he’s part of Harry. He’s literally so close to Harry, that he doesn’t know where his hands begin and where Harry’s legs end. 

 

“Ehm,” Louis hears loud and clear. The sound makes him turn his head towards the door. Harry’s mouth slips from Louis’ and slides against his cheek. Louis sees Stephen standing with his eyes wide open and his hand still on the door handle.

“Shit,” Louis whispers and Harry backs off. He bumps against the doorframe opposite from Louis’ and his cheeks are flaming red. 

“Hi… Dad,” Louis’ voice is too squeaky and he knows that his dad saw a lot. His face says it all. 

“Hello to you too,” Stephen says and starts moving. He closes the door after himself and looks at Louis, then Harry and then back to Louis. His brows are arched high, asking the question: “Who is this man my son is kissing?”

“Uhhh, dad, this is Harry. Harry this is my dad, Stephen,” Louis introduces, swinging his hand between the two. 

 

“Hello, Harry,” Stephen walks forward and shakes Harry’s hand. Harry is in a loss for words and when he shakes Stephen’s hand, he only manages to open his mouth, but not say a word. 

“Are you staying over?” Stephen asks. Harry casts his eyes towards the floor while Louis rushes to his side.

“No, we… I was just… Uhmmm… I guess Harry was just about to leave?” Louis stumbles with his words and knows that he’s doing quite a shitty thing, but he doesn’t know how else to handle it. He has to pay this back to Harry at some point, but now he’s just thinking about his dad who is looking at the two expectantly. 

“Yes, I think I need to get going,” Harry swallows and the red from his cheeks spreads to his neck. Louis takes Harry’s hand into his and discreetly tries his pulse from his wrist. Harry’s heart is still beating, even though he looks like he’s about to give up on that. 

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Harry. I hope I’ll meet you again?” Stephen smiles and clasps his hands together in front of himself. 

“Okay, dad, it’s time for me to see Harry out. I’ll be back soon,” Louis smiles tightly and starts to lead Harry out. Harry only takes his shoes from the floor, but doesn’t have time to put them on when Louis is already opening the door. 

 

“Will you come back soon, Louis?” 

“Yeah, dad, I’m just going to say goodbye to Harry outside,” Louis nods his head and is already afraid his dad is going to say something which will just make the night even worse. When he closes the door after himself and Harry, Stephen hasn’t said anything. 

“Oh dear mother of….” Louis whispers when Harry puts on his shoes. He starts to laugh quietly, clearly trying to hold back the biggest bursts. 

“That was fun,” Harry laughs as Louis is leading him to the gate. 

“I really didn’t mean for you to meet my dad like that,” Louis shakes his head and can’t really believe what just happened. And why does it feel like his dad just caught him having sex or something? He just can’t understand. It’s not like his dad hasn’t caught him in even more compromising situations. But now, when he’s just kissing… It seems like the biggest scandal of the century. 

“At least we don’t have to do the awkward first meeting over a dinner, where no one says a thing,” Harry is smiling and it shines through his voice. 

“Oh yeah, like he’s going to let that just go,” Louis rubs his forehead and sighs a laugh. Harry turns towards him when they reach the front gate.

 

“I had fun tonight,” Harry says and rubs Louis’ arms over his jumper, when he sees Louis shivering. 

“Me too,” Louis smiles and feels himself very shy suddenly. 

“I hope we can do this without your dad sometime soon?” Harry asks and the question makes Louis laugh. It clears his shyness away and he links his hands behind Harry’s neck. 

“Trust me, my dad won’t be there every time,” Louis says warm-heartedly. He is already waiting for the next time he and Harry are going to meet. 

“Though, I do like the idea of a dinner together at some point, if that’s what you’d like?” 

“Yeah, sounds nice. But I can’t just tell my dad that you’re only my friend when he has already caught us kissing and almost dry humping,” Louis points out. It makes Harry look towards the sky with a thoughtful look on his face. 

“What if you’d introduce me as your boyfriend? I guess that would make sense, especially after tonight?” Harry shrugs like it’s no biggie. 

“Boyfriend, hmmm. I do like that word,” Louis smiles and the simple declaration makes Harry beam. He kisses Louis’ face and the soft touch of his lips all over Louis’ cheeks and chin make him laugh against Harry’s skin. 

 

Stephen watches Louis through the kitchen window. He knows he can be seen by either of the two because of the lights are on, but he just has to see it with his own two eyes. Whenever Stephen caught Louis with some other boyfriend, Louis was never ashamed or weird about it. But now… Louis has never been this fast to get someone out of their home, like he’d want to treasure something special between the two. 

Stephen does get it. It was the same with him and Donna. He didn’t want to introduce her to his family before he was absolutely sure of her. It didn’t take long for him to realise it, but he just wanted to hold their thing between the two as long as he could. Their friends knew and probably even the waiter at a restaurant knew, but Stephen didn’t want to tell his parents because it changed everything. He just wanted to be him and Donna for a while, before he mixed his family into the equation. Maybe Donna felt the same. She didn’t introduce Stephen to her family until Stephen had introduced her to his family. 

“They seem happy,” Donna says and leans her head against Stephen’s shoulder. Her hand snakes around Stephen’s arm and it feels warm even through his shirt. He leans his head against the top of hers and they watch their son together. 

“Louis looks at him the same way I always looked at you,” Stephen says out loud, realising how odd it feels. To say something out loud. Like he would’ve answered… To… Someone… Stephen straightens his head and looks around himself. He’s sure he heard Donna’s voice, but he can’t see her. He’s sure he felt her next to him; her head on his shoulder and her warmth against his body. He looks out the window and sees Louis standing by the gate alone. Stephen can see Harry’s figure walking away behind the bushes, which makes him look like a ghost. The streetlights are bright enough for Stephen to see the smile on Louis’ face when he turns around and walks back inside. 

 

The door opens and closes, the lock clicking. 

“Sooo?” Stephen walks to the kitchen doorway, leaning against it with his hands crossed over his chest. 

“So, what?” Louis asks. He doesn’t seem as cool and collected as he’s trying to be. 

“Is that the guy who you talked to me about?” Stephen asks in a voice, which just annoys Louis with its flattering sound. 

“Possibly.” 

“Have you done it yet? I guess if I would’ve walked in a little later, I might’ve seen something more?” 

“First of all, he’s not like that. Second, no. And third, maybe I don’t want to share that info with you,” Louis counts with his fingers when he takes off his shoes and jacket. He doesn’t know why he didn’t take it off when he came here with Harry. He can still feel the sweat that formed in his back and how moist his shirt is. 

“Okay, okay, you’re right. Just remember to wrap it up when the time is right,” Stephen says and he knows he’s being a bit over the top, but he likes to tease his son. 

“Dad! I’m not sixteen anymore! Thank you very much!” He exclaims and laughs hysterically, but his voice is bursting with horror. 

“I know, Louis, I know. But one thing I do like to say…” 

“Don’t say it’s about oral hygiene…” 

“No, but I could talk about that too.” Louis groans while Stephen chuckles at the thought. Maybe he’s not going to do that, he knows his son is clever enough and knows how to protect himself. 

 

“I just want to say that what you have here seems to be quite special. You don’t have to bring him here right away, but if you think you have something special going on, then I’d like to meet him properly,” Stephen says with warmth in his voice. 

“Why are you saying it like that?” Louis turns to meet his dad face to face from his door. He knows he’s letting the clear endearment show through. 

“I just think you might be in the brink of something amazing and I’m happy for you,” he smiles and Louis smiles too. He hides it by looking towards his feet, but he thanks his dad before he goes into his room and closes the door after himself. Stephen shakes his head slowly, walking back into the kitchen to make some tea before going to bed. 

He sighs and keeps smiling. Just the thought of having such an amazing son makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst through his chest. Now when he knows Louis has found someone by his side warms his heart even more. 

 

“They’re going to be good together,” Stephen hears Donna say, but her voice fades out too quickly. He feels the words lingering in the air and he knows they’re true. They creep in his bones and make him shiver, but not with fear. 

The time Louis said she’s around doesn’t seem such an impossible idea anymore, even though back then it did. 

“I love you,” Stephen whispers, listening if he’ll hear her just once again. He doesn’t hear her, but he can feel a hand on his chest. He closes his eyes and imagines Donna standing by his side, smiling and stroking his chest just over the place, where his heart beats. The feeling doesn’t stay, though, and he knows she can’t be here all the time. 

But even knowing that she’s still here makes it so much easier. He leans against the counter and knows. Just knows. Everything’s going to be fine, even better than fine. He’s never going to forget the pain his wife left in him, but he can move on. He’ll watch their son thrive and be as happy as they ever wished Louis to be. 

 

\- - - -

 

Louis should move. He has been standing on the street for too long and Harry will text him soon, asking where he is. He knows that, but he still stands still and doesn’t move. How silly of him. It’s not because he wouldn’t want to see Harry or spend time with him. But because he’s so nervous. When he pulls his hand from his pocket, it shakes and he can feel the sweat in his palm. He’s watching Harry’s windows and somehow hopes this wouldn’t be happening. 

That he wouldn’t have come here, he wouldn’t have known what to say to Harry, he wouldn’t have opened his mouth and when he saw Harry for the first time on the stage, he would’ve just let it go. He should’ve been happy for him, but let it slide. He shouldn’t have listened to his mum when she told him to go help Harry. He should’ve just fought to stay alive and when he would’ve woken from the coma, he would’ve been happy with Jeremy and everything would be like it was. 

But things didn’t turn out like that. He was in a car accident, fell into a coma, met Harry, woke up, saw Harry again and felt drawn to him. He can’t deny it anymore, he can’t deny how extremely happy he is. But it terrifies him. He has never been this happy and he’s just waiting for that one thing, which will ruin everything. 

He steps onto the road, his eyes still glued to Harry’s windows. Harry walks past them, seeing Louis and he smiles. Louis smiles back at him and doesn’t hear the car coming. The last thing he sees are the headlights of the blue car, which swoop over him and then it’s over. The last thing he feels is the blood that bursts through his skin. It runs freely and it’s over so quickly that he doesn’t have a chance to realise this is his end. Maybe it will end like that. Maybe he’s going to be the one dying before Harry. 

 

It’s not real, though. The car drives past him and Louis is still standing on the pavement. He’s looking at Harry’s windows and he’s waiting for something. Just something to happen which will ease his nerves. He can see a shadow behind the windows and it comes closer, until Louis can see Harry’s figure standing in the window. He has his phone in his hand and he’s holding his lower lip between his right thumb and forefinger. He looks like he’s deep in thought. When he lifts his eyes from the screen of his phone, he sees Louis and his face loses the heavy features. He smiles, waving at Louis and then inviting him in. 

Louis breathes out a long breath, which was taking most of the space in his lungs. He smiles back at Harry and walks over the road, almost runs, to the other side. His feet ache, because he can’t move fast enough and he’s moving too fast at the same time. He climbs the steps to the building’s front door and rings Harry’s doorbell. It buzzes him in almost instantly and Louis is sure Harry was already waiting by his door. 

Louis lets himself inside and walks the stairs up two at a time. He gets out of breath too fast and he knows that when he reaches Harry’s door, he’s going to be gasping for air. He just clutches his backpack harder against his shoulder and keeps on walking. He doesn’t care about the way his feet ache or about his lungs which are about to collapse. 

He just needed the sign. 

 

It’s funny how well Louis still remembers which Harry’s apartment is. It’s been over a year since he first came here and through coma and memories, he still walks to Harry’s door like there hasn’t been a day he hasn’t visited this place. The corridor still smells the same; like home. He stops in front of Harry’s door and looks at it for a moment. The last time he was here brings back bad memories. The time he had to say goodbye to Harry and he really thought he’d never see Harry again. But here he is, ready to knock on Harry’s door. 

The lock clicks and Harry opens the door. He peeks his head out, watching Louis with a smile on his lips and his brow quirked. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Harry asks, opening the door a bit more. 

“Mhmm,” Louis nods and walks in front of Harry. He doesn’t let Louis inside, though, but towers in front of him and takes Louis’ backpack. 

“What?” Louis asks amusedly, when Harry has set Louis’ things behind the wall and is still not letting Louis inside. 

“I want to say hello,” Harry smiles and leans forward, touching his lips against Louis’. He smiles when Louis has to catch his breath even harder, but still encompasses Louis into a hug while still tasting Louis’ lips with his own. 

“Welcome,” he says and leans back, watching Louis’ blushing cheeks. He feels too hot and Louis really wishes he doesn’t look like he just took part in the Olympics and then ran straight to Harry’s. 

“What a welcome,” Louis chuckles, his hands on Harry’s waist. They move onto Harry’s back, then to his sides and back to his back. 

 

“Come on, I made us dinner,” Harry pulls Louis gently inside and closes the door after him. Louis feels like he hasn’t eaten in a long time, when he smells the delicious food. 

“I didn’t know you cook,” Louis must look very surprised, because Harry gives a light laugh and then goes to stir something in a pot. Louis takes off his shoes and jacket, hanging it on the clothing rack. 

“It’s just something… I thought you’d like it.” 

Louis walks closer and leans against Harry’s side to look inside the pot that is on the stove. 

“What is it?” He asks and looks up to meet Harry’s eyes. 

“It’s chicken in a cream and tomato sauce. I used to like it back home and thought I’d make something similar for you,” Harry looks proud of his cooking, but closes the lid. 

“Just ten more minutes and then we can eat,” Harry tells Louis. He nods and walks around the kitchen. 

 

“So, I guess you didn’t lie when you said you’ve been here before?” Harry asks conversationally, watching how Louis is looking around. 

“Have I lied to you about everything else?” 

“Nope,” Harry chuckles, walking after him when Louis goes into the living room. 

“Does it look the same?” 

“It does. It’s a bit tidier than when I was here the last time. But other than that, it looks the same,” Louis turns to see Harry’s reaction and when he sees Harry smiling, he continues his tour. The place really hasn’t changed at all. The bed is in the same place, so is the couch. The coffee table is clean from all of the papers Harry used to have it covered with. Now they’re gathered into piles in the corner. 

“You got yourself a plant?” Louis walks closer to the bamboo tree, which is next to the wall just before Harry’s bed. 

“It wasn’t here before?” 

“No, you didn’t have anything green in here when I last visited you,” Louis touches the leaves with his fingertips to make sure it’s real. 

“Well, it might not be the best place for it. Every morning I almost trip on it and I still don’t understand why I don’t move it further away,” he laughs, watching the tree from further away. 

“Could it be better here?” Louis asks and moves it closer to the couch. Harry tilts his head like the plant could be an expensive art work. He nods and starts smiling, like Louis would’ve done the best thing there is to be done. 

 

“What did we do the last time you were here?” 

“I’m not sure if I want to tell you,” Louis turns away and walks closer to Harry’s bed to see the pictures on the wall. Most of them are the same, but some are new. They’re of Harry and Marie and their new adventures. 

“What could be that bad?” Harry laughs and comes to stand next to Louis. 

“Where is that from?” Louis asks and points at a picture, where Harry and Marie look so excited that it makes Louis smile. 

“There was a carnival and we rode the Ferris wheel for the first time since we were kids,” Harry talks slowly and he hums a laugh. 

 

“Just tell me, I want to know,” Harry bumps Louis lightly with his elbow, leaning a bit closer. 

“The last time I was here, I said goodbye to you and I thought it was the last time we’d meet. So no, it’s not a nice thing to remember,” Louis says and glances at Harry from the corner of his eye. 

“Oh,” Harry breathes out, silencing himself after that. 

“But I’m here now and I’m with you and I couldn’t be happier,” Louis smiles and turns towards Harry. He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, linking his hands together behind Harry’s back. He smiles and tries to move away from the bed. But his foot gets stuck in the sheet and he falls backwards onto the bed. Harry falls on him, his body weighing Louis against the mattress. 

“You must’ve done that on purpose,” Harry says and pecks a kiss against Louis’ lips. His hand hold his upper body away from Louis’ chest, but he’s still so incredibly close that Louis could count Harry’s eyelashes. 

“No it wasn’t, but I wish I could’ve thought of that and made it intentional. This is rather nice,” he smiles and pulls Harry closer. His body heats Louis’ body and the duvet seems to tie him against the bed. The timer in the stove rings too quickly and Louis sighs exasperatedly, when he knows that Harry has to leave.

 

“C’mon, let’s go eat,” Harry lifts himself up and offers Louis his hand to take a hold off. Louis feels his hair sticking out in every direction and he also sees the way Harry looks at him. 

“I know, my hair’s a mess.” 

“I like it like that,” Harry declares and touches Louis’ hair, swiping them backwards. 

“Even better?” Louis asks, when Harry looks at his work admiringly. 

“Even better,” he confirms before he turns away and takes out utensils to eat with. Louis isn’t particularly hungry, but he knows it’s good he eats. 

Even though he’s nervous, he’s getting rid of it. He doesn’t even know why he’s so nervous. Maybe it’s this place because so much happened inside these walls. Louis being here is the first time Harry knows about it and it’s quite a big thing. When they eat on the floor next to the coffee table, Louis can’t stop smiling, because even that hasn’t changed. Also the food Harry has made makes Louis smile, because no one has ever cooked for him. Especially when it’s this good. 

 

The night grows darker and Louis puts on the lights. He feels pretty good, but still nervous. Now he’s also full, but fortunately not too full. Harry is washing the dishes and humming some song in the kitchen, singing some words, but then going back to humming. 

“Can I read some of your lyrics?” Louis asks, leaning towards the other end of the couch. He sees the piles of paper and he can’t even imagine how many songs there must be. All that is just waiting to be used in Harry’s upcoming albums. Now they’re just words on a paper and they’re raw and filled with Harry. When the lyrics go through the music industry machine, they change and Harry’s voice will be lost somewhere, even though they’d be entirely his lyrics. It’s just not the same when Harry would sing these songs here and now. 

“Sure,” Harry answers mid-song and then keeps on humming. The water in the sink splashes when Harry drops in the plates.

 

Louis can’t stop reading and he loses all sense of time and hearing. If he’d decide, all of those lyrics could be collected into a book. 

“What do you think of them?” Harry asks. His voice startles Louis and it brings him back to reality. 

“Are you done already?” 

“Yeah,” Harry smiles and comes to sit next to Louis. 

“So?” 

“They’re amazing, they’re just you and… I don’t know what to say, you should release ten albums at once so you could get these songs out there,” Louis waves one of the papers in his hand and smiles. He can’t believe how lucky he is. This guy is sitting next to him and he’s magnificent and straight from Louis’ dreams. He can’t believe how beautiful Harry is and now when he’s sitting so close to him, he could stare at Harry for hours on end. He doesn’t want this moment to pass. 

Harry takes the paper from Louis’ hand and the rest from his lap and places them on the table. 

 

“I’m glad you decided to find me,” Harry says and Louis is almost sure he can see Harry’s eyes watering. 

“I’m glad that I found you,” Louis touches Harry’s cheek and a tear drops from his eye. 

“What is it?” 

“No, you don’t understand. I haven’t felt this complete in such a long time and when you came along, I was afraid why I felt like I already knew you. Not like I had met you, but you just have this quality. This one thing that makes me feel complete and it’s such a relief that you can make me feel this way.” 

Louis stares at Harry. He never knew Harry felt like that. He never knew that this was a huge thing for Harry too, not only for Louis. He leans in and kisses Harry. He cradles Harry’s head in his hands and twines his fingers through Harry’s hair. He leans back and looks into Harry’s eyes. He’s so scared and so happy at the same time. He’s afraid it’s all going to come down in one big dramatic bang, but what does it matter. If he’s already now afraid of it, he’s sure it’ll happen. He’s here now and he has Harry; what else could he ask for? 

 

“I love you,” Louis says without hesitation. The words just flow from his mouth and they are scary, but they also make him very happy. They’re words with so much meaning and still, they’re just words. He would’ve made a mistake saying it to someone else, because now he gets it. This is it, this is how it feels. 

“You do?” Harry asks, his voice shaky and his eyes filled with doubt. The fears deep inside of him lift their heads and Louis feels the same pain Harry feels. 

“I do, I really do. I love you, Harry. You don’t even know. I’ve wanted to say it for so long even though I didn’t want to say it. It hurt so much to say goodbye to you the last time that I don’t want that to happen ever again. I want to be here with you and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.” Louis pours his heart out, feeling mighty ridiculous. Almost like he’d be in a romantic comedy where the characters vow to love each other for eternity. At the same time it’s not that silly. That’s how he feels, he wants to be with Harry and he doesn’t believe him dying will stop him. 

 

“I… I love you too,” Harry says and starts smiling, like a huge rock would’ve been lifted from his shoulders. Louis thinks he’s going to kiss Louis, but his head tilts against Louis’ neck when Harry pulls him in. He can feel Harry breathing against his skin and Louis closes his eyes because of the sweet feeling. 

Harry’s lips start to move on Louis’ neck, nibbling on the thin skin. Louis chuckles, his hands travelling up and down Harry’s back. He’s already looking forward to meeting Harry’s lips when they reach his face, but he lets Harry go in his own pace. He feels so warm in Harry’s embrace that he thinks he might be on fire. It makes him paralysed to the feeling of Harry having his hands on Louis’ legs and how he moves Louis to sit on his lap. When his lips finally connect with Louis’, they’re feather light and rough at the same time. Just the way Louis likes it. 

“Bed?” Louis breathes into Harry’s mouth. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and feels Harry moving. He stands up effortlessly and Louis might feel like he’d be a koala wrapping around a tree. It doesn’t matter though, because Harry smiles against Louis’ lips. He falls onto the bed, Louis ending up straddling him. 

 

Louis remembers the night when Harry was crying. The time Harry asked if Louis was his guardian angel. In a way he was. But Louis can’t stop thinking that Harry was his guardian angel too. He made Louis realise who he is inside; that he has a side which he didn’t want to introduce himself to. 

Now that he realises it, Harry saved Louis more than in one way. He also brought him back to life, literally. Without Harry, Louis wouldn’t have had a reason to come back. All he thought about was Harry, and it made him stronger. Maybe he knew he was going to meet Harry again and it kept this flicker of hope alive. 

 

“Stay tonight?” Harry asks with a ragged breath and when Louis nods, he stops kissing Louis for a moment. 

“Are you nervous?” He asks, looking into Louis’ eyes like he’d find the truth there.

“Of course I am, I’ve never been with someone who I’m in love with,” Louis says and Harry can only see the truth. Louis can feel Harry’s heart beating fast and when he closes the gap between their lips, Louis rubs Harry’s chest just where his heart is flying. 

“We can be nervous together if you want?” Louis asks, his lips still touching Harry’s, but he’s not close enough to kiss Harry. 

“If you want, I’m not saying that we have to do anything tonight. You know, if this bed makes you feel nervous, then no. Then we’re not going to be nervous together and we can just make tea instead?” Louis leans back a bit more, just to make sure it’s Harry’s decision what happens. He seems so nervous already, but when Louis sees the smile on Harry’s face, he knows Harry wants it as much as Louis does. 

“I might be nervous about your bed, especially after your dad caught us, which was actually nothing. But now… No, I’m not that nervous. I feel only love for you and it doesn’t make me nervous,” he looks calm, his eyes admiring everything he sees in Louis. 

Louis strokes Harry’s hair back over and over, getting used to the revelations they made tonight. 

“The only thing that is left is love,” Louis whispers and suddenly it’s not so funny anymore. It’s the truth; he has only love left for Harry and it’s not at all scary or nerve wracking. 

“Just love,” Harry smiles and pulls Louis in. He can feel Louis smiling and it seals everything. Their kiss is like a lid on a box, which contains only love. Only they can open it and look inside of that box. They have to treasure it, and that kiss will be the one, which will keep the love burning. 

 

\- -

 

Louis’ face comes into view from a dark place. He’s talking, he looks so sad. Everything around him clears from the dark and Harry sees they’re at his place. Louis’ voice gets louder, so he can hear it. 

“… Have to go,” Louis says and his eyes find Harry’s. 

“Oh,” Harry hears himself saying, even though his lips feel completely slack. 

“Look…” Louis continues while he drags his hand across his face. He looks so stressed and Harry would want to do something. But he can’t. His limbs are like stone. 

“When we had that fight, I knew something back then, which I didn’t tell you about,” Louis swallows thickly, almost like he’s trying to hold in sick. 

“I’m supposed to go,” Louis says and Harry thinks about the worse, but is trying to think about the best. Louis will come back. 

“Okay, well, when are you coming back?” Harry hears himself ask. He feels like his heart has stopped. 

“No, I mean… When you would’ve fallen for me, I’m supposed to go,” is the answer. Louis looks up to see Harry’s face and he looks like he’s about to crumble into little pieces. Harry hears himself talking again, but he hears it in echoes and the words don’t make any sense anymore. The darkness surrounds Louis again, but his face stays there, he’s there. The darkness doesn’t go away, but stays there and Harry can still see Louis. 

 

He’s looking at Louis’ hand, exploring the lines and the skin and touching it against his face. Harry feels he’s closing his eyes, but at the same time he sees Louis. He’s glowing, like a halo would be around him. Harry can see wings on Louis if he’s looking into Louis’ eyes, but when he’s about to look at the halo around him, the wings disappear. He can feel his heart hammering all over his body, but he can’t move. Louis is there and he makes Harry feel safe. Louis and his halo; they make everything magical. 

 

The image changes again. Harry can only look at Louis’ face; it keeps him sane. Light captures them in a new place and Harry recognises it to be Marie’s room. He’s playing the piano and the familiar song flows around. 

“You still remember this song?” Harry hears Louis’ voice. It’s everywhere and Harry would want to turn around, but he doesn’t know where to look. 

“Marie taught me to play this. I even learnt to play it with my guitar, but it doesn’t sound the same.” Harry says and he thinks where it came from. He’s sure he didn’t say a word and yet, here he is, talking. Louis doesn’t answer him and it feels unsettling. Did Louis leave? The last few notes fill the room, and Harry feels lonely. He misses Louis’ face. The bench in front of the piano dips next to Harry and when he turns his head, he sees Louis. 

 

He’s smiling, offering Harry his hand. Harry touches it and the lights go out. Louis is still there, but he doesn’t look the same. He looks happier. His surroundings change from dark to light and Harry can feel himself running. He’s coming closer at Louis and when he’s close enough, he can feel his body crashing against Louis’. It’s like crashing with a feather. 

“You got it!” Louis laughs. His voice breaks and he looks as happy as Harry feels. 

“I got it!” Harry answers and he can feel his eyes watering. He doesn’t know how it happens, but he sees himself kissing Louis hard and Louis just collapses in Harry’s arms. He goes limp and Harry is holding him up. But then he regains his strength and Harry thinks he’s going to move away. But he doesn’t. 

Everything turns into smoke. Harry feels warm and he can smell cigarettes. He hears silent music, but can’t recognise the song. He sees the glass in his hand. He can taste the liqueur in his mouth. He feels the intoxication running to his head. 

“I don’t know… Say something witty, maybe even give me one of those side eye things you have going on there… Maybe even a smile…” Harry hears Louis’ voice so clearly, that it seems like he’s saying it right into Harry’s ear. When he turns to look at Louis, he’s surrounded with the halo he saw earlier. It’s cold and warm. Inviting and scary. And Harry feels drawn to it. He sees the wings and Louis, who looks like before. But there’s blood coming out of his mouth and there’s a gushing wound on his forehead. He looks like he’s not going to stay long, not if Harry doesn’t do anything. 

 

The image of Louis is so strong that it wakes Harry up. He’s trying to catch his breath and he feels like he could rip his lungs out. Louis. 

He looks towards Louis, who sleeps on Harry’s right side. The fairy lights on the wall illuminate Louis’ sleeping features. The softness calms Harry. When he sees Louis breathing and his hand twitches, Harry breathes out in relief. He relaxes against the mattress, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. 

But the dream… It wasn’t just something his mind created. An angel. Harry turns to look at Louis, his eyes still seeing the wings on Louis. They fade away; he doesn’t need them anymore. But there’s something on his back. Something black. 

He lifts the duvet gently and sees them on Louis’ back. Wings. Tattooed permanently onto his skin. Harry touches the other one with his fingertips, tracing the delicate line to the tip of the wing. They’re huge on Louis’ small frame, but they’re nothing compared to the ones he had in Harry’s dream. 

 

It wasn’t a dream. They were memories. They had to be. Harry can’t remember being with anyone during those times, but now… He always felt like there was someone who comforted him. Someone who made it easier. 

Harry turns his eyes from the tattoos to Louis’ calm face. He looks like he’s smiling. Maybe he is. Harry covers Louis’ back with the duvet and lays back down. He stares at Louis’ features. He feels tears in his eyes even though he doesn’t know why he’s crying. Then it hits him. All of it. It comes back like a tidal wave and he’s a star fish. Every moment with Louis comes back and it’s not just glimpses. Everything. He also knows why he’s crying; he got Louis back. He thought he had already lost Louis, but now he’s here and he’s in no rush to go anywhere. No angel things that might make him leave and break Harry’s heart again. 

 

“My own angel,” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear. Louis presses his head against his pillow, smiling a bit wider. Harry comes closer, his face not even an inch away. Louis moves a little, then turns all the way around. His back comes to face Harry and the wings are gone. 

Harry doesn’t see it though. He has already closed his eyes and his arm is already snaking around Louis’ waist. He pulls Louis closer to snuggle him and feel him living. He wants to know Louis’ heart is beating. That blood is running in his body. He wants to hear Louis breathing and feel his lungs expand and breathe the air out. He nuzzles his face against the back of Louis’ neck and feels sleep falling over him once again.

The only thing that is left, is love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the end. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd love to hear your thoughts so come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog) or just leave a comment :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi [here](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main blog) or  
> [here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) (fic blog). Can't wait to hear your thoughts :)


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